


Challenge Me

by DawnOfTomorrow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Competition, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recovery, Skating-related injuries, Slow Burn, yuuri's anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-10-15 06:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 104
Words: 94,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17523521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnOfTomorrow/pseuds/DawnOfTomorrow
Summary: AU where Victor takes Yuuri to his bedroom after the banquet and accepts a challenge from the drunk man. Yuuri wakes up remembering nothing but rolls with it anyway because it's Victor and honestly, what choice does he have?Then... Yuuri injures himself, and suddenly things are very, very different. Faced with losing everything, what can he really hold onto?





	1. Chapter 1

Yuuri awoke in searing pain. Absolutely everything hurt, no exceptions. His head, his feet, his legs, his back, his eyes – not that he’d even opened them yet – and even his skin hurt. He knew he deserved it – a failure of an athlete as he was.

 

He only had dim memories of what had happened. Or, to be more specific, he had very CLEAR memories of what was likely the worst competition of his life, start to finish. He remembered failing his short program, remembered the call from Mari about Vicchan, remembered the disgusting performance that was his free program, remembered how a JUNIOR skater had found him crying in the bathroom and chewed him out for it.

 

Remembered being offered a ‘commemorative photo’ by the one man he’d idolised since childhood. Remembered being dragged to a banquet he hadn’t wanted to go to… and he remembered booze. So yes, the hangover he was suffering through felt like something he DESERVED. Well and truly deserved. Forcing his eyes open against the harsh light of the morning sun, the sting of it nearly blinding him for a moment.

 

When his vision cleared, he absent-mindedly realised that in order to see past the tip of his nose, he’d need his glasses. Fumbling around on the bedside table for them, he cursed when they were nowhere to be found. Indeed, glancing over the edge of the bed and fumbling around on his pillow didn’t reveal them either.

 

He cursed again, louder this time. He didn’t know where his spare pair was – how did one lose glasses anyway? He was LITERALLY supposed to wear them ON HIS FACE. Then again, he’d had that sort of week, hadn’t he?

 

A soft chuckle made him rear up in his bed, his bleary eyes focusing on the vague outline of another person in the room. That was… problematic. He didn’t normally sleep around, wasn’t the type for one-night-stands, and he certainly had no idea who he could have dragged to his room with him. Or why they were still there the next morning.

 

The person was sitting in a chair at the foot-end of the bed, most likely wearing a suit, going by the colour and outline he could make out. That was already a bad start – whatever small hope he’d had that it was just his coach was dashes instantly. Even without his glasses he could see that this wasn’t Celestino.

 

He swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to squint – it wouldn’t make enough of a difference, would only make him look foolish. At least the chuckle had sounded male. That was slightly less horrible than the alternative.

 

Desperately looking for something to say, a greeting, anything other than the raw pounding in his head, he cursed again. “Glasses?” He finally managed to say, spurring the other man into action. Disturbing action. In what looked like a very sleek movement, he slid from the chair to the bed and _crawled_ towards Yuuri. On all fours, like a cat might.

 

And really, he didn’t need more than a few seconds to figure it out – there were only so many men with silver hair at the Grand Prix. His headache intensified. Victor Nikiforov was in his room. Was on his bed. Was crawling towards him. Was… wearing his glasses?

 

Yuuri’s fingers clumsily picked the frames from his face when he came into reach, putting them on as if they would reveal a different picture, somehow. He shivered. “You are… Victor Nikiforov.” He was half-hoping the person in his bed would deny it, because surely a look-alike made more sense than the actual living Victor being in his bed, a smirk on his face?

 

“Yes, I _am_. And _you_ are Yuuri Katsuki.” A stab of anger ran through him – apparently NOW Victor knew his name? Ridiculous. “What were you doing with my glasses?” He asked. Defuse. Change the topic. Distract. He could practically taste his panic attack already.

 

Victor’s smirk only got worse – better? “I was looking after them for you, of course! Don’t you think they suit me?” “No.” He answered before he could stop himself. Victor – Nikiforov, the one in his bed, somehow – looked distinctly surprised.

  
Yuuri rubbed a hand across his forehead. “...No?” He groaned at the man’s tone. “No. Uh, the blue frames, they don’t go with your eyes. Your eyes are a much better shade of blue.” He cursed again – he’d been trying to say brighter, not better. Of course he THOUGHT it was a better shade of blue, but who was he to say so?

 

The Victor mirage in his bed smirked again, crawled closer until he had enough space to sit, his legs splayed out to one side, next to Yuuri. In his bed. “Why are you, uh, here?” “Don’t you remember, Yuuri?” His tone was teasing but unfortunately, Yuuri did NOT remember, had absolutely no idea whatsoever.

 

This seemed to rather displease the man in his bed, if his frown was anything to go by. Before he could reply, ask for clarification, his stomach lurched, and he leapt out of bed, straight across the room and for the bathroom. He made it just in time for his stomach to try to crawl out of his throat.

 

He was only vaguely aware of a warm hand settling on his back, rubbing gentle circles as he threw up several times. For all that he felt better for it afterwards, he was also all too aware of the identity of the person comforting him.

 

Victor. He didn’t have to look back to know he was crouched down next to Yuuri, mumbling soothing nothings in Russian while Yuuri made even more of a fool of himself than he already had. It only got worse from there. Victor brought him a glass of water for him to rinse his mouth with, offered him two aspirin and helped him to the sink so he could brush his teeth all without Yuuri having to ask for a single thing.

 

To say he was shell-shocked would be the understatement of the century. He allowed himself to be led, ignoring the pain as he cleaned himself up as best as he could. Quickly washing his hair and brushing his teeth certainly made him feel better though, so that by the time he came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his neck since his hair was still wet, he actually felt like a human being again.

 

That lasted exactly until he reached his bed and simultaneously realised three things. Firstly, Victor was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, looking for all the world as if he just dropped down from one of the posters on Yuuri’s walls.

 

Then, Victor was holding his phone – more than, he was playing with it, meaning he’d unlocked it, meaning either he knew the passcode or had guessed it. Neither were great options given that the code was his own birthday, the 25th of December.

  
The third realisation was perhaps the worst – Yuuri was naked. Well, not entirely naked, he WAS wearing his usual pair of black briefs… but other than that, he was wearing skin and a towel around his neck. Had he not been busy feeling like death, he would have probably blushed to the point of passing out.

 

“Feeling better?” Victor asked, as if he HADN’T just humiliated himself even further. “Yes.” “Glad to hear it. You slept quite late, didn’t you?” “What time is it?” Victor glanced at the phone. “Ten to eleven. Do you always sleep this late?” Yes. “No, of course not.”

 

Victor just hummed. “Victor… why are you in my bed?” The man looked around himself as if he’d somehow not noticed that he was sitting in another competitor’s hotel bed. As if. “Hm? Oh, I’m simply here to make good on your challenge from last night.” He sighed. “Challenge?”

 

A positively predatory smile spread out on his face, entirely different from his usual empty smile, and different from his ‘I won gold’ expression too. It was… sexy, to put it simply. He crawled forwards again, towards Yuuri and by all rights, it should have looked completely ridiculous, except it was like every wet dream Yuuri had ever had.

 

He was perfectly hypnotised by the man as he reached the edge of the bed, mere inches away from Yuuri’s body. “I can’t believe you don’t remember last night, I’m hurt, Yuuri!” The man’s pout was obviously fake, though the pure panic Yuuri felt at his words was not.

 

“Victor… what happened last night?” “Oh? You’d like to know? I suppose I _could_ tell you...” “Victor!” His voice came out harsher than intended, more of a bark than a whine, and he didn’t miss the tense expression on the other’s face. It was gone after a moment, his earlier smirk back.

 

“Well, where to begin. You had a few too many at the banquet. You challenged Yuri Plisetsky to a dance-off and wiped the floor with him. You challenged Chris to a dance-off, wiped the floor with him too. Then you made me dance with you. Tango, paso doble. THEN I took you to your room because you refused to go with your coach.”

 

Victor shifted closer, so close he could feel his breath ghost over Yuuri’s skin. “Then, here, you kissed me, shoved me against that door there-” He pointed at the door to the hallway. “You picked me up threw me on the bed… and when I tried to go along with it, started taking off your pants, you stopped me.”

 

Yuuri was relatively certain that he was going to die from complete shock at absolutely any moment. Instead, Victor simply reached out and warm hands settled on his hips, pulling him until his legs were flush with the bed and Victor was leaning up, using Yuuri’s body for balance.

 

“Do you want to know what you did next?” He really, really didn’t. He nodded. “Welllll, you told me that you weren’t that easy, that if I wanted you to fuck me, I’d have to _work_ for it.” He whimpered in humiliation. Not only had he half-assaulted the man… he’d then told HIM that HE had to work for it?

 

He belonged in a jail, or possibly an asylum. Things couldn’t POSSIBLY get worse. “You… said something about a challenge?” Victor chuckled, a low, breathy sound that made Yuuri’s toes curl. “Ah yes… you challenged me to prove to you that I was worth it.” He blinked. That… made very little sense. Even drunk out of his mind, Yuuri was well-aware of just how much he adored Victor – never in a million years would he say something outrageous like that.

 

Even in Yuuri’s own FANTASIES he was sometimes too shy to actually converse with the other, to the point where he had brought himself off to a still image of him more times than he could count. “And… that’s why you’re here now?” He asked, hoping that at some point, the puzzle pieces would slot into place.

 

“Of course, Yuuri! How could I ignore such a challenge? Don’t you know me at all? I thought you were supposed to be my fan...” Without him noticing, Victor had somehow shifted off the bed and had forced Yuuri to step back enough that they were standing chest to chest, expensive suit to bare skin.

 

He remembered he was mostly naked and dove past the other man, into his suitcase. He’d never put clothes on faster than at that moment. When he turned back to Victor, the man looked… displeased to say the least. Good. That made SENSE. Anger. He could work with that.

 

“You’re getting DRESSED?” “I… well, yes. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Victor huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine. We can discuss this while we have breakfast together.” Yuuri dropped the sock he had been holding. Picking it back up, he had to fight a wave of nausea.

  
“Victor… I just threw up. I apparently said completely outrageous things to you, behaved horribly and you somehow WANT to have breakfast with me?” The Russian nodded patiently. “Okay… why?” “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Yuuri spoke two languages with perfect fluency and knew the basics of a few more. Not a single one of them had words for how NOT obvious it was. Of course, all his tortured head managed was a weak whine. “It’s not.” The other man’s lips tightened into a thin line.

 

“Well, it’ll be obvious soon enough? I have a challenge to meet after all.” Yuuri put his foot down – literally, in order not to fall over. “Look, I absolutely can’t remember what happened last night, but whatever this challenge is… obviously you don’t have to do it. In fact, I have no idea why you’re even here.”

 

Victor stepped closer, easily invading his personal space. “Oh Yuuri… I DO have to do it. I’m not about to let you get away from me so easily.” “Let ME get away? Victor… I…” The other man gave him a long, searching look. Yuuri held still until he seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. Next thing he knew, he found his wrist snatched and pulled and he was stumbling after Victor, barely putting on shoes on the way out.

 

They walk – well, Yuuri stumbles – to the elevator. He casts a hesitant glance into the mirror installed in the elevator as Victor presses a button. He looks… like death. Like an insult next to the perfect as always Victor. “Where to…?” He mumbled, suddenly tongue-tied.

 

“Hm? My room. I’ll order us room-service. I don’t think you’re up for a restaurant.” It was blunt, yes, but it was also… strangely considerate. Yuuri suddenly felt ravenous. “That… would be nice.” Victor gave him a dazzling smile – not the kind Yuuri had seen him give reporters. This was different… warmer.

 

He relaxed, despite himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Victor, he discovered, had lied. They rode the elevator up and Yuuri followed him to a door – identical to his, really. Except that way lay behind it wasn’t a ‘room’ at all. It was a suite. A penthouse suite. There was a whirlpool in the floor and from the looks of it a normal pool outside. Yuuri whimpered.

 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll order us something to eat. What would you like?” Instead of answering, Yuuri looked around himself, taking in the room. It was probably bigger than the rinks they skated on. Possibly even bigger than his parents onsen.

 

He took a few shaky steps into the room. He’d never been in a place like it, shuddered at the thought of what it might cost. After a few moments, he remembered that Victor had asked him a question and he turned back to the man to answer it – only to be frozen at the soft expression on his face.

 

Victor was watching him, studying him… he grimaced at getting caught and smiled. His normal smile, Yuuri noticed. “Uh, I’m sorry I was a little out of it. What… did you say?” Victor chuckled. “I asked what you want to eat. Anything in particular?”

 

Yuuri blinked. “I like eggs?” “Oh? You don’t sound so sure. Hm, I’ll just order some of everything then.” With that he walked off, through a door Yuuri hadn’t even noticed. He could see through – Victor sat on the edge of a bed and used the phone on the bedside table… and Yuuri was being a scary creep.

 

Without thinking, he took two more steps, letting himself sink on the edge of a white couch. He felt… so out of place. There were no other words for it, really. Somehow, Yuuri Katsuki was sitting in Victor Nikiforov’s hotel suite after getting blackout drunk and apparently somehow challenging him… to do what exactly?

 

Victor reappeared before him, concern in his eyes. “Yuuri? How are you feeling?” “Uh, better. Thanks. Say, Victor...” “Yes?” “Uh, what exactly is it that I challenged you to do? Yesterday? You said earlier… about proving...?” Victor grinned and, using the back of the couch as leverage, leaned over Yuuri, forcing him to lean back and out of the way.

 

“Yuuri… You challenged me to prove that I’m worthy of your… affection.” Yuuri huffed. “That just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, not just that you’d be INTERESTED, but that I’d possibly… turn you down?” Victor’s expression turned contemplative for a moment.

 

“There WERE other things you said as well, but I won’t be telling you those. That wouldn’t be fair.” “How? How isn’t it fair if I’m the one who said it?” Quite suddenly, his chin was snatched up and he was pulled forwards until he was inches from Victor’s face, his heart pounding louder than even his headache.

 

“It’s about as fair as you doing all of those wonderful things to me and then forgetting. If anything, that was worse. You’ll have to make it up to me… Yuuuuuuri...” Victor’s voice dropped as he spoke, until it was just the barest of whispers, almost more of a feeling than a sound.

 

Yuuri was completely frozen, unable to move, to pull away or do anything else. Eventually, a voice that barely sounded like his own whispered back. “Wonderful things? Did we… have sex?” Victor’s ice-blue eyes darkened, his pupils expanding as he took a sharp breath. “No… not for lack of wanting though. You thoroughly seduced me and then wouldn’t have me. Not until… I proved that I was worth it.”

 

He shuddered, Victor’s fingers on his chin nearly burning, yet nothing in comparison to the look in Victor’s eyes. He’d never seen anything quite like it, and certainly not directed towards him. “What did I _do_ to you, Victor?” Blue eyes fluttered closed as fingers went slack on his chin and then dropped entirely.

 

Yuuri was mesmerised by his lashes – he’d been distracted by his eyes before but with them closed, he could easily make out that his lashes were silver too, a darker shade than his hair, but still silver. For some reason, he hadn’t thought they would be, and it made something low in his gut… twinge.

 

He had supposedly turned down the man he’d loved since he’d been old enough to have his first erection? As if.

 

With a shaky breath, Victor pulled back. “Well, Yuuri… I might tell you about all that later. For now, food should almost be here.” Indeed, his timing was impeccable as mere moments later, a polite knock echoed through the room. Victor got the door and moments later, returned with a cart positively filled with plates. They could have fed the entire Grand Prix line-up and have leftovers. Most of it was also… eggs?

 

Yuuri blinked. “That’s a lot of eggs.” “You said you wanted eggs. So I told them to make any egg dish they could think of.” Yuuri nodded as if that made sense. “What would you like? Do you want to eat on the balcony?” Nodding again because what else was he to do, he followed Victor out to the balcony where the morning sun was warming the air nicely, despite the fact that it was December.

 

December…

 

Yuuri turned around so fast that he nearly tripped. “Victor! It’s your birthday in a few days!” Said man chuckled. “It is. I’ll be 27 soon. So _old_.” He shook his head. “Hardly old. I’m sorry for yelling. I just remembered.” Victor smiled. “Thank you for remembering. Maybe you can spend it with me here? We could always, uh, extend our stay?”

 

He shook his head immediately. “No way! I couldn’t. Can’t afford it. I’ve got a flight back booked already and then there’s Phichit and college and, uh...” Victor poured him a cup of coffee that smelled decidedly better than what he’d had at the breakfast buffet the day before. Without hesitation, he dropped in two cubes of sugar.

 

He was too distracted to properly wonder how the other knew how he took his coffee. “Well, it would be my treat obviously, but if you have to go back to… uh, what’s a Phichit?” Yuuri snorted. “My room-mate! He’s a skater too. He failed to qualify for the Grand Prix this year. He’ll, uh, make it next year.”

 

Victor nodded. “I see. And he’s just your room-mate? Or your lover as well?” Yuuri froze, nearly pouring coffee onto his lap – he’d been about to take a sip. Brown eyes met blue over the rim of the cup.

 

“Ah, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind! If he’s your lover, I am perfectly happy to steal you away from him.” Victor’s smile was a little too… icy to be believable. He set his cup down, just in case. “He’s not my lover, he’s my best friend.” “Wonderful! So… how do you like your eggs?”

 

Yuuri pointed at a random plate and when Victor hovered over the tray, he pointed at another. He ended up with a delicious-looking omelette and eggs on sour-dough bread – somehow, caviar was on that particular dish as well.

 

Victor picked up one of the few plates of food that didn’t consist of eggs… instead, it was simply bacon. Fried. He tucked into it with gusto. “That CANNOT be part of your diet.” Yuuri said before he could stop himself.

 

Eyes wide, he slapped a hand over his mouth a moment later. Victor practically howled with laughter after a few seconds of silence. “Oh Yuuri… well, you’re right, it’s not, but I DID just win my fifth Grand Prix gold, so I feel like I’m allowed a cheat day, no?”

 

He wanted to just fling himself off the balcony. Instead, he gave a tiny nod and started eating his omelette. After the first bite, he realised how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten much at all since his short program, and that had been two days ago.

 

They ate in silence – at least until Victor had finished his bacon and leaned back in his chair to watch Yuuri eat. “So tell me, why did you skate so terribly the last two days? Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t hopeless but other than amazing spins and step sequences, you messed up nearly everything.”

 

He nearly choked on some caviar at the other man’s blunt words. Victor flushed a little, a tinge of pink across his cheeks as he seemed to realise what he’d said. He winced slightly. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean-”

 

Yuuri waved him off. “It’s fine. I know I did badly. Uh, I sort of have...” He trailed off, unsure how to admit his shortcomings in front of living legend Victor Nikiforov, his idol. “You can tell me if you’d like. Or not. You don’t have to.” Victor offered, and just like that, something in Yuuri relaxed.

 

“I, I sort of have stage fright, I guess? I get so terrified of failing that I just… well, you saw me.” Victor nodded. “That was the short program? What about the free skate? There was something else, I’m sure of it.” Yuuri felt naked under the man’s gaze, suddenly far too cold. How could he know?

 

“I found out that… my dog died.”

 

Eyes cast on his plate, the food suddenly tasting like ash, Yuuri let the words hang between them.

 

A heartbeat later, strong arms pulled him out of his chair and against a warm body. He was pressed against Victor’s chest, so strongly it hurt. It was wonderful. Yuuri mindlessly hugged the man back, fingers clutching at his expensive suit jacket, uncaring of the damage he might be doing.

 

Victor was mumbling something, something Russian, and though he didn’t understand a single word of it, he got the gist of it well enough, the comforting tone, the ‘I’m so sorry’ from the other man. After what felt like an eternity, he remembered himself, remembered that he was being held by _Victor_ of all people, almost crying into his shirt, and he took a desperate step back.

 

The other man let him, without letting go entirely. They were once again close, almost too close, and Yuuri automatically met his eyes, startled by the compassion, the pain in them. “I’m so SORRY, Yuuri! I can’t believe you even skated at all after that! If it had been me, if it had been Makkachin… I don’t think I could have skated at all.”

 

Yuuri grimaced. The man would probably win gold if he lost a leg the day before a competition. “Thanks, Victor.” “What… was your dog’s name? Breed?” Yuuri groaned, dropping his head – they were close enough that he ended up pressing his face to Victor’s chest again.

 

He took another step back, this time, Victor released him. “He was… a poodle. Toy poodle.” “Oh? I LOVE poodles! His name? Or hers?” Yuuri winced. “Her name was… well I named her after you.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to look up at the other man. “You named your _dog_ after me?” “Well, we called her Vicchan, but… yes.”

 

Somehow, after everything he’d already done to make a fool of himself, admitting that felt worse still.

 

“That’s… ADORABLE! Oh Yuuri, that’s amazing! I’m so flattered!”

 

Well, it wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. “Vicchan was… she was 13 when she died. I got her when I was 11.” Victor chuckled. “That’s a good age. Makkachin is already 15. I can’t imagine what will happen when she… well.” Yuuri nodded, quickly, understanding him completely.

 

“Would… would you like to see some photos?” Yuuri offered, entirely selfishly, hoping the other man would indulge him. A hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing gently until he looked up. “Yuuri, there is NOTHING I would love more. Let’s go inside?”

 

Food abandoned, they went inside where Victor led them to his bedroom, stretching out on one side and patting the other, inviting Yuuri to lay with him.

 

He did, after a brief hesitation, his phone already pulled out.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri spent nearly half an hour showing Victor every single poodle photo he had on his phone. The other man paid close attention to every single one of them, listened to the stories Yuuri told, not seeming bored even once.

 

He was a little bit in awe – the Victor that eventually excitedly pulled out his own photo and opened a folder labelled Makkachin with over 2000 photos in it, seemed… nothing like the one he’d seen in interviews, on posters, or even on the ice.

 

This Victor was excitable, proud of his dog and understanding of Yuuri’s pain. He was… warm, Yuuri decided when eventually their respective positions sunk in. They were both laying on Victor’s bed, inches from each other, phones held in the air, so they could both see each other’s photos.

 

Yuuri could have spent the rest of his life there and done so happily.

 

Naturally, he wasn’t that lucky. Without warning, the door to the suite opened – Victor didn’t so much as twitch, even as Yuuri scrambled up. “It’s just Yakov, relax.” “But! I shouldn’t be here!” “Why not? It’s my suite and I want you here.” Yuuri felt himself flush even as footsteps approached the bedroom door and it was slammed open a moment later.

 

Definitely not by Yakov. Yuuri flinched when he came face to face with the Junior skater that had chewed him out just a day ago. He didn’t know his name; only knew he was Russian as well. The teen’s green eyes practically seared into his, a feral sneer on his face. He hissed something in his native tongue, clearly aimed at Victor.

 

His reply was no less heated. Yuuri looked between the two, the tension almost palpable in the air, but before he could say anything, fingers wrapped into his hair and yanked him forwards, against Victor’s chest, forcefully burying his face into the other man’s shoulder.

 

It hurt, his nose squashed like that, but Victor held him tightly… and it was Victor. He didn’t resist. Victor said something else and a moment later, the other Russian stormed off, without bothering to close the door.

 

As soon as his footsteps faded away, Victor released him. Yuuri leaned up to meet his eyes, something undefined in them – and regret. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I shouldn’t have done that. Yuri was just...” “Yuri?” “Ah, this could get annoying. you’re both Yuuri’s aren’t you?”

 

He chuckled. “I’ll have to give one of you a nickname.” “Uhm, what did he…?” Victor blinked. “Oh! Oh, you didn’t understand. Of course not. Ah, he yelled at me for wasting time and for being and I quote ‘a disgusting has-been old man’.”

 

Yuuri bristled out of sheer reflex. “Rude! You’re wonderful.” It took a moment, but Victor’s response was the most brilliant, beautiful smile he had ever seen – possibly the most spectacular one ever smiled, period. A second later, he was tackled to the bed, Victor practically wrapped around him.

 

Oh.

 

Unsure what to do, he just held still until Victor released him again, slightly flushed. “Yuuri, I…” Victor broke off with a sigh, getting off him instead of continuing. Yuuri felt cold, in the places the other man had been touching him.

 

Shivering lightly, he accepted Victor’s hand when the other man offered it, letting himself be pulled off the bed. Victor’s smile was almost disappointed when he wandered out of the bedroom and towards the living room. Yuuri followed – of course he followed.

 

Other Yuri was splayed out on the white couch, glowering at them. “Finally!” He exclaimed in accented English. “Yakov sent me to fetch you for our flight back. You ARE packed, right?” Victor chuckled and sat on the couch. “Sure I am. Yuuri, when is your flight?” He blinked, taking a moment to understand that it was him he was talking to.

 

“Ah, tonight. Really late. I think, uh 11pm?” Victor beamed. “In that case, I’m going to take a later flight to stay with you longer.” Yuuri shook his head. “What? No! Don’t be silly, you can’t just miss your flight!” The other Yuri snorted. “Surprisingly enough, I agree with him. Yakov will be furious! Besides, you have training to do later.” Victor shrugged at Russian Yuri’s words.

 

“Yakov is always angry and I have a gold medal that says I can skip a day of training or two.” Before he could help himself, Yuuri snickered, drawing the attention of both of the other skaters to himself. Blushing lightly, he bit his lip. “Uh, it’s just… you have ONE medal? I mean, you probably have a whole room full of them.” His namesake sneered.

 

“Is that how you’ll be? Don’t be disgusting. I’m leaving, I don’t need to see this.” With that, he stalked out, slamming the door behind himself. Yuuri focused his eyes on Victor. Victor, who… looked absolutely delighted by Yuuri’s words. He wasn’t even all that surprised when he was once again yanked against a muscled body, nor when it felt… nice again.

 

“So, now that that’s decided, would you like to get into the tub, Yuuri? It might make you feel better.” He pulled back, instantly, away from the hug and Victor’s attention – except of course, he was Yuuri Katsuki, easily the clumsiest man to ever even attempt figure skating.

 

The back of his shoe caught on the edge of said tub and in his addled state, he tilted backwards and fell – straight into the tub in the ground. Water sloshed over his head and his ass heavily banged against the seat and then the floor of said tub, even as he scrambled up to get air.

 

By the time he spluttered his way to the surface, breathing hard, Victor was already kneeling by the tub, relatively unceremoniously yanking him up by the front of his shirt. He ended up staring into blue eyes, neither of them moving for a few moments, half-standing as he was in the tub.

 

Yuuri blinked first, pulled back and hastily climbed out. “Uh, bathroom?” Victor pointed towards yet another door, and Yuuri practically sprinted there, keen to keep Victor’s suite as dry as possible. He had little success there, dripping as he was.

 

Quickly stripping out of his sopping wet clothes, he rescued his phone, thanking the stars that it was in a completely water-proof case and undamaged. Phichit would never stop laughing when Yuuri told him. IF Yuuri told him. He wasn’t sure he would.

 

Snatching up a towel to dry himself he was entirely surprised to hear a chuckle from behind himself. Really, he was getting quite sick of being surprised by things that made little sense. Victor Nikiforov leaning in the door-frame, his jacket off and shirt mostly unbuttoned, fell into that category.

 

If he hadn’t been leaning on the sink, Yuuri probably would’ve fallen. “You know… I meant WITHOUT clothes.” He managed a weak smile, shrugging. “Well… I’m already soaked, so why not?” Victor looked entirely baffled for a moment, as if he’d expected a no, and Yuuri was almost horrified – had he been joking? Had Victor’s offer not been genuine?

 

But then Victor closed his eyes and smiled shakily, stepping out of the way. “Yeah, okay. You go on and set the settings however you’d like. I’ll… be right there.” Nodding, Yuuri stepped past him, clad, for the second time that day, only in briefs. He had no swimming trunks, so he’d have to make do – he certainly wasn’t going to strip naked entirely.

 

His second descent into the pool happened much more gracefully than the first. The second time around, he could appreciate the gentle feeling of water against his skin, even as he turned to the control panel at the far side of the pool. It had eight buttons… and he had no idea how to operate any of them.

 

Kneeling on one of the seats, he stared at the buttons and pressed one randomly. Lights came on – blue. He pressed it again, changing the colour to a green, then a pink. The colour reminded him of the colour of Victor’s exhibition skate outfit and he kept it, pressing another button. That one activated the jets.

 

A third button did absolutely nothing, while another one made the small display next to the buttons light up – a temperature display, he realised. Upping the temperature to something like his family’s onsen, he uncomfortably settled down in one of the seats, waiting for Victor.

  
Even his anxiety wasn’t enough to stop himself from relaxing though, as the jets worked the tension from his back and thighs. He let his eyes slip closed despite himself, arms outstretched against the back of the pool. For a few moments, he managed to forget, forget all the horrible things he’d just been through, the sheer bizarreness of it all.

  
And then… then something brushed his thighs, startling him out of his relaxation. He realised what it was before he’d even fully opened his eyes – thighs settled against his, moments before hands grasped his shoulders. Victor’s face was inches from his and – oh, somehow, Yuuri wasn’t as deeply terrified as he’d thought he would be.

 

He just felt too worn out, emotionally, all of a sudden. So, he met Victor’s gaze as the other man sat on his lap. Pretty much any other day of his life, Yuuri would have killed a man to be where he was. Except now… he was just a little too far gone to care.

 

“Yuuri...” Victor practically purred and even in his state, a warm shiver ran through him because, well, he was exhausted. Not dead. Of their own volition, Yuuri’s fingers settled on Victor’s hips, a grateful sigh escaping the man’s lips as his legs notably relaxed, no longer straining to stay in place, held by Yuuri now.

 

“Victor… what are you doing?” The other man faltered for a moment, before a soft smile covered his face. “Well, originally, I was going to try my hand at seducing you again. Not into sex, just… something. But now… I’m not sure. I just felt like doing this.”

 

The answer was so thoroughly _Victor_ , Yuuri couldn’t help a chuckle. “I see.” “You don’t seem to mind?” As if to check, Victor ground himself lower, down against Yuuri’s legs and his fingers tightened on Victor’s hips. “Hold still?”

 

Victor’s pout was positively adorable. “But Yuuuuuriiii...” He pulled his hands back and after a moment, Victor nodded, shifting forwards until they were pressed chest to chest, his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. It was… nice.

 

They sat in silence, even when Yuuri’s fingers began stroking up and down Victor’s left side, caressing soft skin. Other than a faint shiver, the other man gave no reaction at all. When Yuuri noticed that his fingers were starting to wrinkle, he gently pushed Victor back. He felt a little more himself, a little less out of it – the jets on his body had done absolute wonders for his hangover too.

 

“Ne, Victor...” “Hm?” “Were you serious about that, uh, challenge thing? What you said earlier?” The other man sighed, leaning up a little. “Yuuri you still doubt that? Honestly… but yes. I am serious. I fully plan on proving to you that I’m… worth it.” Yuuri’s eyes darted to the other man’s shoulders – he was half out of the water. With how hot the water had become, Victor had to be cold outside of it.

 

Before he could think better of it, Yuuri’s fingers snapped to his hips again and lifted the taller man, standing up enough to be able to spin them both. He shivered immediately – it really was cold in comparison to the pool water. Carefully, he set Victor down on another seat, settling down next to him.

 

“You were cold, weren’t you?” Victor chuckled at his question. “So _attentive…_ yes, I was cold but I’m Russian. I didn’t mind.” He smiled softly. “Is sitting on my lap THAT good?” Victor huffed. “Isn’t that obvious? Didn’t you like it?” Yuuri grimaced. “Actually I was just thinking that up until yesterday I’d have probably killed for something like this. Today it’s just...”

 

To his surprise, Victor nodded. “No, I get it. God, I wish I’d known about… about your dog before. I feel like a complete idiot for pushing you when you’re not feeling well.” Yuuri barked a harsh laugh. “Let’s face it, I’m upset about a lot more than just Vicchan.” “Oh? Do you want to talk about it?” “What’s there to talk about? You saw my performance, didn’t you?”

 

For a moment, Victor fell silent, then he sighed. “I didn’t, not live. I watched it afterwards, a recording.” Yuuri shrugged. “Then you know the rest of it anyway.” “I see. It wasn’t that terrible. Your step sequences are amazing, and your choreography is spectacular. Who does it for you?”

 

Yuuri choked out a laugh. “Don’t bother with false flattery. I did horribly. I came in almost a hundred points lower than you. I wouldn’t even have medalled in nationals with that score.” “Yuuri!” He turned towards the other man, surprised to find him looking serious for once. “I’m not flattering you. Your step sequences are divine. You weren’t in your right mind when you skated. Given that, you did… well.” “Victor, if this is part of this ‘challenge’, you should know that I don’t care for compliments, especially not fake ones.”

 

The other skater scoffed, sliding away from Yuuri. “I’m not sure how lying to you would be proving my worth. I’m also not lying. I admire the way you skate.” Anger bubbled up in Yuuri. “That so?” Victor shifted in the water, standing up and leaning over Yuuri, his arms braced against the edge of the tub.

 

“Yes, actually. Have you ever known me to joke about skating?” Yuuri’s eyes widened a little – he had seen just about every single interview, public appearance or otherwise televised moment of the man above him. And in all of that…

 

“No.” “Wonderful. I’m serious. I mean, Yuuri, yes you came in last and you fell… a lot, but you still came in sixth. There are FIVE skaters better than you. In the whole world. That’s it. And honestly, few if any would stand a chance against you if you jumped like you move.”

 

Yuuri decided to ignore most of what Victor was saying. “And somehow, here I am, the world’s best, most highly decorated skater in the world leaning over me… remind me how exactly this challenge is supposed to go?”

 

Victor smiled, a little wryly. “Teasing me?” “No, genuine curiosity. In what way could drunk me have thought that you have to prove anything? There are posters of you in my room.” Victor relaxed, sinking lower in the water, leaning on his elbows rather than his hands now, a lot… closer.

 

Yuuri gulped. “You spent quite a lot of time explaining that, actually.” “Are you going to tell me what I said to you?” Victor grimaced. It made his nose wrinkle. Yuuri supposedly rejected this man? Ridiculous.

 

“No, I won’t. That’s… no. I’ll tell you, eventually. But not yet. Not until I’ve fulfilled your challenge.” “The challenge that ends in me letting you into my pants?” Victor paused for a moment, then carefully nodded. “I don’t see the appeal for you, honestly.” Victor’s resulting smirk, he decided, ought to be on another poster. The man would make millions on pre-sales alone.

 

When Victor said nothing, Yuuri sighed again. “Victor, all of this is just so-” A finger settled lightly on his lips, shushing him. Victor’s expression was serious, almost… upset, maybe. Yuuri had never seen anything like it, but it made something in his chest clench painfully. “Don’t say it, Yuuri. Let me be clear since you don’t believe me. Yesterday was the best evening of my life. I desperately wanted you then and when you gave me that challenge, I wanted you MORE. I have EVERY intention of meeting it, no matter what.”

 

Spellbound, Yuuri listened to his words, took in how serious the other man was. Then it started to sink in. Victor was _serious_. Victor Nikiforov wanted him. Wanted to prove himself worthy – as if he ever needed to do that?

 

“We live thousands of miles apart.” He instead offered. Victor waved him off. “I can come to Detroit any time. Or you can come to me. Doesn’t matter.” Yuuri winced – international flights weren’t cheap, and he was quite… broke. “I, uh, may not stay in Detroit, actually.” “Oh? Then where will you go?”

 

Suddenly, Yuuri felt awkward discussing this almost entirely naked with Victor in a whirlpool. He let himself sink lower, until the water was bubbling almost to his ears. “Ah, you don’t have to tell me. Not yet anyway. I’ll make you want to tell me soon enough.”

 

Yuuri shifted a little higher. “You’ll make me want…?” Victor practically purred, a deep sensual sound that Yuuri had only ever heard in his dreams. “Everything.” The older man said and Yuuri felt something surge in him, something he only ever felt on the ice – not in competitions, when he was alone, skating at night with headphones, all alone.

 

He snapped forwards, sweeping Victor with him, uncaring that he spilled water over the side of the pool. A moment later, he had Victor pinned against the other side of the pool, a knee wedged between his thighs, no doubt too high, too… personal.

 

He couldn’t have cared less because in that precise moment, Yuuri wanted SOME control back over his situation, wanted to do something other than sit and float through events. His fingers clenched on Victor’s shoulders, pinning him in place, eyes fixed on Victor’s. “What if I don’t want to just give in? Is the high and mighty Victor Nikiforov, Olympian, Grand Prix winner, national and world champ going to BEG for it?”

 

Yuuri watched as Victor’s lips parted, a high whine escaping his throat and for a moment, he felt like SUCH a fraud – he wasn’t acting like himself after all, and no doubt Victor would laugh at him, shove him off, something like that.

 

Of course, it was Victor, and Victor never failed to surprise him.

 

The man shivered, a full-body shiver that nearly gave _Yuuri_ goose-bumps. “I, uh, yeah, if that’s what you want, yes, yes, so much yes.” A blush rose, delicately at first from his shoulders to his neck, to his cheeks. Where Yuuri blushed red, Victor blushed pink, and it was absolutely delightful.

 

“Yuuri! Would you please, could you… I just…” Living legend Victor was stuttering, his eyes darting everywhere but Yuuri’s face. Eventually, another shiver ran through him. “Yuuri, could you give me some space?”

 

In a heartbeat, Yuuri was across the pool, feeling deeply ashamed himself. He wondered distantly if he was still a little drunk maybe, because WHAT was he thinking? Victor had already told him that he had practically forced himself on the other the day before…

 

He cursed softly, under his breath and in Japanese so that the other man couldn’t understand him. Not that he was paying attention, Yuuri noticed. Victor was sitting still, eyes closed, expression pinched. “Did I… hurt you?” Yuuri asked, his voice so small he feared Victor may not have heard him at all.

 

When the other man’s eyes fluttered open, he knew he had.

 

“God, what, Yuuri, no! Not at all. I just… After yesterday, you pressing into me like that… it was a bit much. I’m sorry.” It took him a remarkably long time to work out what Victor was hinting at… but surely, he wasn’t understanding the other right? There was no way Victor could be… turned on by Yuuri pretending to be confident, right?

 

It was just all so ridiculous.

 

Mouth open to apologise – it was one of his best moves after all – Yuuri was startled when the door opened again behind him. He turned in the water – was Russian Yuri back?

 

He should be so lucky. Coach Yakov Feltsman was staring down at him with something like disdain in his face. Actually, there was no ‘something like’ about it – the man was angry. Worse yet, his own coach was standing right behind him.

 

Yuuri considered how long it would take him to drown himself in the pool and decided it would take too long after all. “Yuuri! So you really are here! I was looking for y-” Celestino broke off mid-sentence. “Uhm, Yuuri… why are you here?”

 

Yakov scoffed. “What do YOU think? Pretty obvious what they were doing, ey? Even for you, Victor, this is monumentally stupid.” Victor laughed him off. “Relax, Yakov. Shouldn’t you be on a plane with Yura already?” The Russian coach crossed his arms. “I was SUPPOSED to be. However, I can hardly leave you alone can I? Look at yourself!”

 

“And Yuuri, we, uh, need to go as well. There is still time until the flight, but you know it’s better to get there early and you aren’t packed yet...” Yuuri sighed – it was rare for his coach to ramble like that. Still, even with both coaches there, he was surprisingly unwilling to leave the warmth of the pool.

 

He stood, slowly, reaching for his towel and wrapped himself in it. The room, though perfectly warm before, felt almost freezing. “Uh, where are your clothes, Yuuri?” His coach asked him. “Wet. I slipped and fell into the pool earlier. Wait I’ll get them.”

 

By the time he was back, Yakov was bent over Victor, yelling at him in angry, fast-paced Russian. Victor looked… unimpressed. Yuuri had pulled on his pants and shirt, despite them being sopping wet still. With Celestino already waiting in the door, he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Victor – he didn’t fancy risking his life with Yakov there.

 

With a sigh, he watched the door fall closed behind him – in all likelihood, that was the end of… whatever it was he’d gotten caught in.

 

Yuuri wasn’t even back in his own hotel-room when his phone beeped. He pulled it out – the text alarm wasn’t one he recognised. It played a chord from… “Stay with me? I didn’t realise you liked Victor’s song that much, Yuuri?” “I, uh, didn’t. It was just…” He trailed off, unlocking his phone.

 

Celestino let it go, thankfully, while Yuuri stared at his phone screen, equally impressed and baffled. The text came from a number saved under ‘Vitya <3 <3 <3’. Since that certainly wasn’t anything he’d do, nor a name he knew, he had to assume… it was Victor?

 

The message certainly suggested it – a simple ‘Text me when you can, Yuuri!’. He was honestly impressed – how had Victor gotten to his phone so quickly? Between Yakov and the pool… he put his own phone away, determined to text in the cab.


	4. Chapter 4

‘When you can’ turned out to be almost nineteen hours later, in Detroit. In a cab back to his shared flat, he pulled out the device and stared at it. It had died before he’d finished packing his suitcase and though he’d managed to charge it during the flight, there hadn’t been any reception. He’d switched it off, and now he was… hesitant to turn it back on.

 

What if there were more texts? What if there weren’t?

 

With a sigh, he pressed the button and waited for the horrible melody that sounded when he turned it on. Waiting for the device to boot, he thought back to his day. His coach had refused to even acknowledge what he had seen in Victor’s room – not that there had been much to see anyway. As a matter of fact, he refused to talk about the banquet as well. He simply helped him pack while Yuuri showered and changed, leaving his wet clothes behind with no time to dry them before leaving the hotel.

 

The entire trip back, from the checkout to the cab ride, to the waiting at the airport, the flight… it was awkward. Terribly awkward. His coach barely looked at him, not that Yuuri _really_ had a problem with that. He had… thinking to do.

 

Yuuri’s phone finished booting, showing his usual Vicchan background picture. He smiled, fondly, at his beloved dog, tapping the screen. Before he could even enter the pin though, it started vibrating like mad, his (apparent) new text tone, a chord from Victor’s program, playing over and over and over.

 

The cab driver gave him a funny look. After about a minute or so, it finally stopped, and, with shaky fingers, he unlocked the device. The notifications were… well, their number alone was daunting. There were three calls from his parents, two from his sister and one of those ‘Welcome to the US network’ texts. So far so normal.

 

He also had 18 messages from Phichit and 4 missed calls from his friend… And then there were no less than 89 messages from ‘Vitya’. Fingers still shaking, he began with Phichit. His friend had expected him to get in touch and his hamsters had done lots of cool stuff. Nothing TOO out of the ordinary.

 

He also texted Yuuri that apparently Victor Nikiforov had posted something ‘really interesting’ on Instagram, but that could mean anything, so he wasn’t too worried. The 89 messages worried him. It all began innocently enough. Victor wished him a safe trip. A nice flight. Good weather. Then he sent about five messages all reading ‘Yuuri?’ some 30 minutes apart.

 

He was beginning to see how he ended up with 89 texts. Next came messages about Victor’s trip – about how Yakov had made him pack his things during a lecture, how the receptionist had asked for his autograph, how the cab driver had watched him skate and apparently liked it.

 

How their flight was delayed and… apparently, Victor missed Yuuri. That one he stared at for some time. A lot of time actually, because… wow. Following that one, there were several more of the ‘Yuuri?’ texts.

 

A two-hour break, then a simple ‘I’m sorry’, followed by an explanation of how Victor had apparently paid for some kind of upgrade in first class that allowed him send and receive messages even mid-flight – Yuuri hadn’t even known that was POSSIBLE!

  
After that, he sent another apology, and then another, and then a few more. Another hour break before a longer text came in – that one complete with an explanation of how Yakov had apparently told Victor he was being incredibly creepy and how he needed to apologise and then he seamlessly transitioned to panicking about why Yuuri hadn’t texted him back, whether he’d made him angry, annoyed him, whether he’d ruined things already.

 

Yuuri’s heart clenched almost painfully and he pulled up his keyboard and texted ‘Victor?’ without even bothering to read the last fifteen or so messages. It took less than fifteen seconds for a reply to come in. ‘YUURI! FINALLY!’ it read… and then his phone rang.

 

He nearly dropped it in shock, squawking in surprise and shame at the look the cabbie gave him. He was glad Celestino wasn’t in the same cab as him. Hesitantly, he pressed the green phone symbol – what else was he supposed to do after all? It was Victor.

 

“Yuuri? Oh Yuuri! I’m so glad I finally heard from you! I was so WORRIED! Is everything alright? Were you mad at me?” The man rushed through his words so much, his accent was far stronger than normally. “Victor! Please, calm down! I’m really sorry for not getting in touch sooner. My phone died on the way out of the hotel and then I couldn’t charge it until I was on the plane… I’m really sorry I worried you.”

 

A very, very long silence fell, and for a moment, Yuuri wondered if Victor had hung up on him – then he heard the other man sigh in relief. “So… you aren’t mad? That I, sent you, uh, did you see?” Yuuri snickered. “The eighty-nine messages you sent me?” Victor cursed softly in Russian – at least he assumed it was a curse.

 

“Was it that many?” “That’s what my phone said.” “Are you… mad about that?” Yuuri grinned. Oh yes, he was totally mad that his childhood idol who had apparently decided he wanted to get into his pants had sent him nearly a hundred text messages. Fourteen-year-old Yuuri would be crying from joy.

 

“Not at all. I think it’s sweet actually. I was just reading them all.” Since he was using his headphones, he could actually continue to do so. Switching back to the message list, he barely noticed when Victor awkwardly cleared his throat. “I, uh, those last few? You could skip them.” Yuuri blinked. “What? Why would I do that?” “I sent them when I was panicking. I, uh, say stupid things when I panic sometimes.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes practically glued themselves to the screen. It was easy to scroll back to where he had been. There were more apologies – for coming on too strong, for pressuring Yuuri (ridiculous!), for sending too many messages… and then Yuuri comes across the third to last text, and it’s probably definitely the most amazing thing Yuuri has ever seen on a phone screen.

 

‘Would you like me to beg for your attention? Because at this point I would. Yuuri pleaaaase!’ - sent by his childhood idol, crush, the most decorated figure skater in history. “Yuuri? You’ve… gone quiet.” “Begging, huh?” He asked, his voice lower, rougher than intended. He didn’t even look at the last two messages.

 

“To be fair, you brought it up first. I was trying to figure out what I’d done wrong...” Yuuri sighed, eyes still trained on that text. He was considering printing and framing it. Possibly have Victor sign it. Take a selfie with it. He shook his head to shake off the unbidden thoughts. “You’ve done nothing wrong, honestly. I’m the one who’s really sorry for not getting in touch. I feel awful for worrying you so much!”

 

They were still talking ten minutes later when the cabbie dropped Yuuri and his two suitcases off at the entrance door of his apartment building. It was a relatively small building – only three floors with four apartments each. He described it to Victor, at his request, as he pulled his suitcases awkwardly up the stairs to the second floor.

 

He was so wrapped up in the call that he unlocked the door, pulled his suitcases inside and closed the door behind himself without so much as noticing something he had most decidedly forgotten about – the fact that he had a roommate.

 

Laughing at something Victor had said, he turned and came face to face with said roommate. Phichit was very, very clearly not in a good mood. He lowered his phone. “Uh, hey Phichit.” “Hey? That’s what I get from my bestie? Just a hey? You’re lucky ciao-ciao texted me at the airport.”

 

“Yeah, uh, that’s fine, sorry I’m just on the phone with-” “Who, your family? Say hi for me!” Victor chuckled into his ear even as Yuuri tried to explain himself. “No, not them!” “Oh? Who was so important then that you couldn’t text me first?”

 

Yuuri swallowed. “Victor?”

 

It came out as more of a question. Both men replied at the exact same moment – Victor with “Yes?” and Phichit with “Who?” Yuuri groaned, held a finger telling Phichit to wait and then turned away a little. “Sorry about that. As you can see, I just got home. Would you… I mean could we talk later? What time is it where you are?” Victor chuckled again – it was a sound Yuuri liked VERY much.

 

“I am eight hours ahead of you.” “Okay, right, so would you mind if I texted you later? For you, uh, tomorrow?” The man at the other end of the call sighed dramatically. “Ooookay… but on one condition – one hour from now, I get a goodnight text.”

 

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes! No problem at all, Victor! Then, I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks for, uh, calling me.” “Yes, it was… nice. Thank you, Yuuri.” Yuuri ended the call before he could allow himself to think too much about the inflection of his last few words.

 

Quickly yanking off his earbuds, he turned back to Phichit, who was giving him a smug look. Oh god. “So… who’s Victor?”

 

“Victor Nikiforov.” “No, no, not that one. The one you were talking to. Must be some guy, making you look so happy so quickly after, well… everything.” Yuuri smiled – properly, maybe for the first time since the beginning of the GPF.

 

“Victor Nikiforov.” He repeated, waiting for his friend to catch on. Phichit practically gaped at him, even as he dragged Yuuri towards his bedroom.

 

“Tell me EVERYTHING.”


	5. Chapter 5

Exactly 58 minutes later and less than halfway through his story, he sent Victor a quick ‘Sleep well!’ text, not even checking for a response. Two hours after that, when Yuuri could barely even keep his eyes open, he’d finally finished telling Phichit what had happened.

 

He’d left out certain things – mostly anything to do with them having almost-sex, the possibility of Victor begging, or of him sitting in his lap, or even the challenge thing – and though it was obvious that Phichit knew he was missing some info, his friend let him go to bed after his tale.

 

Yuuri barely managed to struggle out of his coat, took his glasses off, didn’t even turn on the light in his room to put anything away, instead falling face-first into bed, asleep before his cheek touched the pillow.

 

Jet-lag was NOT Yuuri’s favourite thing in the world, especially since he was extremely susceptible to it. He slept far too long, far too late. By the time he woke up, it was early afternoon. Out of reflex, he checked his phone first.

 

Seven new messages.

 

A grin stole onto his face before he could help it. He opened the app eagerly, only to blush scarlet as soon as he spotted the very first message from Victor. He’d missed it, but it was one he’d gotten almost immediately after his text to Victor last night. It was a selfie from Victor.

 

He genuinely worried he might get a nosebleed from the sight – there was Victor, on his back, wearing a rumpled, too big shirt, next to him his Makkachin, also on her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth. He was obviously laying on his bed, his free hand on his stomach, the softest smile Yuuri could imagine on his face.

 

It was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he knew he didn’t have to check social media to see – that photo was his only. Victor never posted pictures like that. Yuuri had to fight to suppress the urge to squeal in excitement, instead, he focused on scrolling lower. There was a ‘Thank you <3 <3 <3’ message, a ‘Sweet dreams <3’, followed by another photo, several hours later – another selfie.

 

The second one showed Victor at his rink, an angry Yakov in the background. Victor was wearing a different smile in that one, a less open expression. Underneath were more texts. ‘Good morning <3’, ‘Did you sleep well?’.

 

He chuckled – several hours had passed since the last text, and it was almost a shame. Yuuri had LOVED the 89 texts from the day before, if only because Victor had spent that much time on HIM, of all people.

 

Quickly combing his hair with his fingers, he slipped out of his ugly shirt and under the blanket. He knew he had no chance of looking as good as Victor did – so, instead, he decided to try for funny. Blanket pulled to his chin, he lightly waved at the camera and took a photo with his other hand.

 

He sent it before he could let himself think himself out of it. When no immediate reply came, Yuuri groaned in frustration. He couldn’t help but worry, think about if he’d done it wrong, if the other man had maybe not liked it… and then the melody from Stammi Vicino sounded and he relaxed immediately, unlocking his screen as quickly as he could.

 

Victor’s reply was a long string of ‘<3’ – if nothing else that answered the question of who had saved Victor’s number under ‘Vitya <3 <3 <3’ – he wouldn’t have expected the other skater to be quite so fond of hearts… it was sweet. Chuckling softly, he got up and got dressed. Phichit was gone but had left him a note and some pizza from the evening before.

 

Heating it up, he snickered at the way Phichit had been acting. His friend hadn’t actually been surprised at what happened so much as he had been incredibly upset that Yuuri hadn’t told him. He’d forgotten at the time, but Phichit had texted him about something Victor had posted on social media.

 

His friend obviously knew about his crush on the other skater… so he had wanted to tell Yuuri gently that Victor had posted a snapshot of himself on a plane captioned ‘miss him already’, fully expecting Yuuri to be heartbroken that Victor had a mystery lover of some sort.

 

He wasn’t, of course.

 

He was giddy if anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Training that day, much as he had taken it easy, had been torture. By the time he was done with it, it was already past 6pm… and that meant it was midnight for Victor. Despite that, he still sent a text, just in case. ‘Victor?’ he texted, not expecting a reply.

 

He got a call instead. “Yuuri! I’m so glad you texted me! I didn’t want to just call in case I bothered you!” Yuuri grinned stupidly at his ceiling. “You wouldn’t be bothering me. Isn’t it really late for you?” “Mh, that’s fine. I’ll sleep late tomorrow. We have so little time together, Yuuuri… it’s not fair.”

 

Chuckling, he rolled unto his stomach instead. “I’m still sort of surprised you want to talk to me at all.” Victor sighed softly. “Where are you right now?” “Hm? In my bed.” “Alone?” Yuuri groaned. “Yes of COURSE I’m alone, Victor! Who would I have with me?”

 

The Russian purred. “As soon as I’ve met your challenge, me, I hope. However, the reason I asked is… would you, like to have a video call instead?” Yuuri’s eyes darted around his room, studying his fourteen Victor posters. “Give me two minutes to get ready?” “Yes! Take as much time as you need!” He hung up and practically flew off the bed, yanking his posters down as quickly as possible without damaging them. He shoved them all under his bed, flipped over the framed picture on his bedside table and changed into a nicer shirt, just in case.

 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he called Victor back – with video that time around. Victor was… shirtless. That was all he could think about. The man was lounging in bed, his phone clearly propped up before him, and the man wasn’t wearing a shirt. Oh god.

 

“It’s good to see you, Yuuri! I missed you!” “I know.” He answered, his mouth moving before he could think better of it, his mind still hung up on the Instagram post of the plane. It only occurred to him how rude he’d sounded when he took in Victor’s slack-jawed expression. He pinched his nose.

  
“V-Victor, I just...” The other man LICKED HIS LIPS and Yuuri felt a little faint. “So _forward_ , Yuuri! I like it.” Forward. Victor liked it when he was forward. Oh god. “How was your training?” He forced himself to say instead, deciding that a topic change was needed desperately.

 

Victor curled down, closer to the phone. “Fine. Boring. Nationals are in less than two weeks.” “Oh? So are mine. Third to fifth.” Victor’s face fell. “Really? They’re at the _same time_? Oh that’s not fair! I was going to come cheer you on!” Yuuri sighed. “Ah, just as well. If I skate like at the GPF, which I suspect I will, it’ll be nothing I’d want to show you.”

 

“But Yuuri, I want to see everything! I don’t mind if you don’t win.” Yuuri snickered. “Sorry, does the four times World Champ, five times Grand Prix winner and Olympian not care about winning?” Victor grinned. “I mean I don’t care if you win. Or if you come in dead last. I’ve _seen_ you skate. When you do well, you’re spectacular.”

 

Yuuri said nothing – praise from Victor was… difficult to accept, especially when it was so obviously not true. “You’ve seen me skate maybe once or twice.” To his surprise, a pink flush spread across Victor’s face, nearly to his forehead. “Victor?”

 

The other man sighed, averting his face for a moment. “I… may have been watching YouTube videos of you skating. A lot. To help with missing you, you know! Is that… do you mind?” Suppressing a whine, he shook his head. “I’ve seen about every single public appearance you’ve ever made, Victor.”

 

The other man’s blush was replaced with a beaming smile – he wasn’t sure which one looked better on the older man. Yuuri shifted a little, mimicking Victor’s position by propping up the phone and stretching out next to it.

 

Victor followed the motion, shifting closer to the phone. “Hm, Yuuri?” “Mhm? If I win gold at nationals, can I have a reward?” He blinked. “A… reward?” “Mhm. Your choice. Just… for motivation, you know?”

 

Yuuri chuckled. “You’ll win either way, you’re… you!” Something like a frown stole across Victor’s face and he amended his answer. “I mean… I can come up with something if you’d like. If you want me to.”

 

Right choice.

 

The other skater went back to smiling, and the knowledge that he had put that smile there, that he was the one affecting the other man so… it felt good. It made him feel more confident than he was. His heartbeat speeding up a little, he found himself wanting to take a risk, wanting to push a little. Not for the first time since he’d began interacting with Victor, he found himself wanting to lead, to take the next step and make the other man follow him for a change, after years of Yuuri chasing Victor.

 

Biting his lip softly, he trained his eyes on Victor’s face. “What would you like from me? As your reward… Vitya?”

 

For a moment, the other man didn’t react at all. It was just long enough to give Yuuri time to panic, time to regret… and then that delightful blush was back, stronger than ever. Victor actually hid his face in his hands, whining low in his throat.

 

Yuuri hadn’t felt so… powerful since… well, probably not ever.

 

He loved it. After a long moment, Victor peeked out from behind his fingers, though his eyes weren’t looking at the camera, not really. “Yuuri… how are you real? I don’t even… uh, what do I want? Uhm… I’ll leave it up to you. Watch my performance, and then… you decide.” Yuuri grinned.

 

“Sure. So, about the name?” Victor groaned. “That… uh, please don’t ever call me that while I’m driving or skating. I’ll crash.” Yuuri’s grin widened. “Oh yeah? Is it a Russian nickname thing? I know you guys have things like we do with -chan and -kun.”

 

Victor nodded eagerly. “Yes. It’s like a pet name. It’s… familiar.” “And you want me to use it?” The other man rubbed a hand over his face. “Only if you want to.” “If it makes you blush like that, definitely.” “How did you even _know_?” “You saved yourself that way in my phone.”

 

“Did I? I don’t remember. Oh GOD what was I thinking?” Suddenly not so sure any more, Yuuri shifted. “If you don’t want-” Victor shook his head, a determined expression on his face. “No! I mean, I want. I want. A lot. I just… didn’t expect it. You doing something like this to me, so suddenly.”

 

He got the distinct impression Victor was talking about something other than simply calling him by his nickname. Yuuri was… intrigued. Absent-mindedly, he licked his lip – Victor’s eyes immediately moved down a little, on the screen and Yuuri could SEE the way Victor’s breath puffed out at the image.

 

“Are you getting ready to sleep, Vitya?” He asked, hoping for an even stronger reaction. Victor mumbled something in Russian, his voice pitched lower than before. “Pardon?” He asked, trying to be coy, hoping it wouldn’t come off sounding silly.

 

“Yuuuriiii… yeah, I was going to go to bed after our call.” “Was? Changed your plans?” Victor snatched up the phone, Yuuri’s view suddenly jostling until he was looking down at Victor on his back, phone held above himself with one hand. His other one was… Oh.

 

“Please tell me you don’t mind, Yuuri? I just, I kind of?” He babbled. Yuuri felt a throb of heat shoot through him, felt himself hardening in reaction to what was obviously happening to the other man. “And if I said I minded?” Victor’s second hand appeared on the screen, balled into a fist.

 

“Shit, tell me what I need to do to be allowed, just, please? I really need…?” Victor trailed off when Yuuri sat up a little pulled off his shirt as well and mirrored the man’s position on his back, phone held above himself. He felt remarkably self-confident, a little dazed from the satisfaction of what was happening, even as he was almost embarrassingly hard already.

 

Victor whined. “Oh Yuuri… Can I?” Victor was begging, properly begging, he was asking Yuuri for permission to touch himself, plain, inexperienced Yuuri. “Touch yourself for me.” He all but ordered, pleased when the other man’s hand snapped down with a moan, disappearing from the frame.

 

Suddenly he felt immensely disappointed that the picture cut off half-way down Victor’s abs. He could see the man’s breathing speed up even on the small screen, his eyes shut tightly. “Does it feel good, Victor?” He asked, his voice barely even sounding like himself. The older man nodded jerkily, his arm visibly moving.

 

Eventually his eyes fluttered open again, focusing on his own phone. Yuuri groaned quietly – he had had too many fantasies to count of seeing the other man like that, flushed in pleasure, looking at HIM. “Yuuri? Would you… as well? I want to see it!” Unable to deny the man anything, Yuuri let his hand creep lower, under the band of his trousers, taking himself in hand and squeezing softly.

 

Victor started babbling, something in Russian, and not for the first time, Yuuri caught himself thinking about just how sexy it sounded, much as he didn’t understand a word of it. Lazily stroking himself, his breath hitched when Victor’s babbling devolved into small, throaty moans that went straight to Yuuri’s cock.

  
It only took a minute or so before Victor’s rhythm grew unsteady, before his eyes fell shut again and a moment later his back arched, a quiet mewl barely audible. Yuuri felt himself pulse, mindlessly stroking himself once, twice, before he too came, moaning Victor’s name as he did so.

 

Yuuri swallowed, breath heaving right along with Victor. The other man’s face was open, a soft expression that Yuuri had only ever seen in his fantasies – not that they did the image before him justice. Then, of course, because that was just what happened to him, the afterglow faded, and realisation set in.

 

He had just had, essentially phone sex with a man he’d admired since he was a kid. And much worse, he’d barely touched himself, had come in maybe a minute or two. Having always been praised for his stamina, that was a little… well, humiliating.

 

“Dear god, Yuuri! That was…” Victor was still panting. “Yeah, I know. I, uhm, sorry Victor. You should probably go to sleep soon. You need to train for nationals.” The other man nodded, a small smile playing along his lips. “Yes, you should too. At least now I’ll actually be able to sleep.” Victor winked at him and Yuuri all but flinched. “Uhm, yeah. Goodnight, Victor!”

 

With that, he hastily hung up before hurrying to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for his day.


	7. Chapter 7

Yuuri’s practice went horribly. He couldn’t land his jumps, could barely remember his steps. Celestino tried to make it easier, tried to give him simpler and simpler things to do, but the constant pitying looks that he and others shot him just put him more and more on edge until finally he snapped and ended practice early, going home a full three hours before he was supposed to.

 

Upset as he was, he called his sister to chat, hoping she might cheer him up. Instead, his sister gave him an update on their family’s finances – given that they were the ones who backed his coaching fees, finding out that they wouldn’t be able to afford it for another year hardly had much of an impact on him.

 

He’d seen it coming, and in between everything else, there wasn’t much that could still get to him, not with the mood he was in. When the call was over, he went to Phichit’s room to play with one of his hamsters – they were all very gentle and the tiny fluffy creatures rarely failed to make him feel better.

 

That day, all he got was a bloody thumb and an angry squeak.

 

Deciding he may as well go to bed early, he changed into his pyjamas and laid face-down on his bed. Clearly, whatever miserable streak of bad luck he was caught in, it wasn’t over yet. He found himself texting Victor before he could think better of it. ‘Busy?’ He texted the other man, only to decline the call that came in a minute or so later. Victor texted back three question-marks.

 

‘Don’t feel like talking. Bad practice. How are you?’ He replied, hoping the other man would find some way to cheer him up, maybe. ‘I’m sorry. I’m great. Just making dinner.’ ‘What’s on the meal-plan?’

 

‘Steamed chicken and broccoli. In other words I’m ordering pizza.’ Yuuri chuckled weakly. ‘Cheat-day, hm?’ The next reply took a few minutes. It was a text followed by a photo. ‘Every day is cheat day when you have as many medals as I do.’ The photo showed Victor, biting on a slice of pizza liberally covered in toppings, standing in front of a glass cabinet absolutely stuffed with medals – Yuuri recognised several of them, of course.

 

He sighed, putting his phone down. Clearly, Victor was trying to cheer him up… except he hadn’t needed a reminder of how far above him the other man was, he really hadn’t. Some ten minutes later, his phone played that by then familiar text alert noise. He ignored it.

 

Ignored the next one too, and the one after that. By the time the fourth alert sounded, he picked up the phone, deciding that being rude wasn’t helping anything either. ‘Yuuri?’ ‘Did I do something wrong?’ ‘I’m sorry if I did. Tell me what it was?’ The first fourth message was once again a photo with a caption. The photo showed Victor’s dog, Makkachin, making puppy eyes at the camera. The caption read ‘Makkachin will be sad if you don’t text back.’

 

Yuuri chucked his phone across the room and rolled over, utterly uncaring that it wasn’t even dark out yet.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days passed quickly and miserably. He didn’t text Victor, nor answered his calls. There were dozens, at first asking what had happened, then apologising, and eventually simply Victor telling Yuuri how his day was going.

 

He learned all sorts of things about the other man’s schedule, how his trainings went, how his rink-mates behaved and so on.

 

With every day, the guilt at not having texted back grew, all the while it was also getting harder TO text back, because that would mean that he would have to apologise, and how was he even supposed to do that? How did one apologise for being an anxious mess that freaked out over a picture of a dog and some medals?

 

Eventually, it was a text from an unknown number that spurred him into action. After training, he found the text – from a number he didn’t know with a country code he didn’t recognise. ‘Call Victor before he does something stupid like blowing off nationals to come see you. -The real Yuri’ The text read and Yuuri leapt out of bed instantly. Yuri Plisetsky, it had to be – how the kid had gotten his number, Yuuri had no idea, but it wasn’t something he could easily ignore.

 

Scrambling for his laptop, he cursed when he found the battery dead. Thankfully, Phichit was willing to lend him his, leading to him sitting on his bed, Skype open and video-calling Victor not five minutes later. Thankfully, the man had added more than just his phone number to Yuuri’s phone.

 

He’d been a little surprised to find a phone number, Skype ID, even an address in St. Petersburg saved under the ‘Vitya <3 <3 <3’ contact. He still couldn’t bring himself to rename it, stupid as he felt for having a contact saved like that at all – Yuuri was the type of person who saved people under their real names, never nicknames.

 

Skype rang about five times before Victor picked up – the longest since they’d begun talking. The other man was wearing a dark red V-necked shirt, sitting in what appeared to be the chair behind a desk, his flat behind him, the top of Makkachin’s head visible on one side.

 

Victor’s expression was serious. “Yuuri.” The other man greeted, his voice oddly… empty. Yuuri flinched – he really had messed up, hadn’t he? “Hey, Victor. I, uh, got a text from your Yuri.” “Is that so? Yes, he took my phone earlier today, didn’t say for what.”

 

Yuuri took a deep breath, unable to meet the other man’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Victor. I shouldn’t have ignored you for so long. Especially not without telling you why. I know you may not forgive me but I’m… really sorry. It was childish and immature, and if there is a way you could forgive me, please tell me how.”

 

Resolutely staring at his knees rather than his screen, he rattled through what he had to say quickly, before bracing himself for whatever answer Victor had. For several minutes, neither of them said anything at all. Eventually, Victor broke the silence.

 

“You… called to apologise?” Yuuri’s eyes moved from his knees to the keyboard. “I… yes?” “To apologise? To me? For ignoring me? Not to tell me that I’m a bother and you want me to stop already?”

 

Forcing his eyes up, he looked at Victor. The man looked… serious. Shaking his head quickly, he held his arms up in an ‘X’ gesture. “What? No! Your texts were about the only good thing the past few days. I’m just… sorry I couldn’t text back.”

 

Silence fell again, and once again, Victor was the one to break it, with a chuckle. “That’s… I see. In that case, I’m not mad at all, Yuuri.” He whined, there was no other word for it. “Not mad? How can you… not be mad? I ignored you for like three days!” “Ah, don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy but… I’m pretty sure I figured out why you were upset, and it was my fault, wasn’t it?”

 

Yuuri said nothing – his personal failure wasn’t Victor’s fault at all, yet it HAD been his texts that had upset him. “I sent you a photo of my MEDALS followed by a photo of my DOG a mere few days after what you went through… honestly, I’m the one who needs to apologise to you.”

 

He shook his head again. “No! Not at all! It’s… my issues aren’t your problem. You were trying to be nice and I just… reacted badly.” “Oh Yuuri… you’re allowed to be upset, I should have been more thoughtful as well. I understand why you didn’t reply. I’ve been, uh, beating myself up over it the past few days.”

 

Yuuri sighed – of COURSE he’d managed to make Victor feel bad too. The man grinned for a moment, before turning away from the camera and pulling his shirt up to reveal the upper half of a nasty bruise on his hip. “Victor! What happened?”

 

“Ah, I flubbed a few too many quad Lutz attempts.” Yuuri blinked. The quad Lutz – easily one of the more difficult jumps in skating – wasn’t one the other man had showed in competition before – the only quad he hadn’t shown, actually. “You’re training that, huh?” Victor shrugged. “I was trying to. At the moment, I’m banned because I kept falling.”

 

Yuuri winced. “Because of me? I can’t believe I even affected your training, god, I’m so SORRY!” “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. Happens a lot actually. One time I messed up almost an entire day’s worth of practice because Makkachin wouldn’t eat her breakfast.” “I-Really? Was she sick?” Victor sighed deeply. “No. Just not hungry. The point is, don’t blame yourself. I’m not mad.”

 

“You looked mad when you picked up.” Victor ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs away only for them to fall forward again. “Well… I expected you to tell me that I was annoying you and you wanted me to stop. Especially after how I pushed last time.”

 

“Last… time?” “Our last video call.” Yuuri felt himself blush scarlet – he remembered it quite well. “And, uhm, what about it?” Victor winced on the screen, his hand running through his hair again. A nervous tick maybe? Yuuri couldn’t help but think that it was adorable. “I probably shouldn’t have… I was just so…” The other man broke off, a faint blush on his cheeks.

 

“Did you not like it?” Yuuri asked, his voice small. “What? No, of course I did! I was the one who wanted it, remember? I just feel bad for having so little restraint. All you did was call me by a nickname after all.”

 

“Vitya.” Yuuri reminded himself, enjoying the way the word rolls from his tongue. His heart skipped a beat when Victor’s blush deepened considerably. “That… I’m just ridiculous, aren’t I?” Spurred on by the man’s words, Yuuri’s mouth once again got ahead of itself and him. “If you mean ridiculously gorgeous, then yes.”

 

After a moment of silence, Victor whined, a hand covering his mouth. “Yuuuuri! How do you always just… surprise me like that?” He chuckled awkwardly. “I did sort of… want to talk to you about, uh, that. If you don’t mind?” Victor’s expression softened a little. “Of course not, Yuuri. I’m sorry I pushed something you didn’t want.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “Victor...” “No, please let me finish. I’m… better than that, usually. It was just, after the banquet and then the pool there wasn’t any time and then I was missing you and my body just… needed. I felt like a stupid teenager afterwards.” Yuuri smiled wryly. He hadn’t been impressed with himself either. “Did you… I’m sorry if it wasn’t good for you.” He offered, hoping the Russian would maybe at some point… no, that really wasn’t something he should think about.

 

“Not good? Yuuri… I’ve had actual sex with people and it didn’t feel half as good as spending three minutes on the phone with you.” Yuuri could feel himself colouring, half in shame and half in… happiness. Sure he’d come ridiculously fast but so had Victor, hadn’t he?

 

“Three minutes?” He asked, and Victor’s cheeks nearly matched his own in colour. “Well, in my defence, you really… at the banquet… and then in the pool… I only have so much self-control. And, uh, normally I can last longer than that. Honestly.” Yuuri chuckled. “I wasn’t any better than you, obviously. I was actually really embarrassed that you’d think… about me…” Victor smiled hesitantly.

 

“So we had the same fear, hm? For the record, I could never think less of you for something like that. Also, the thought that I was the reason for it… oh god I’m going to have to take a cold shower after this.” Yuuri’s breath hitched, his heart speeding up almost too suddenly. “Is that so?” He asked, in that strange voice that always made him feel like he was a phony somehow.

 

Victor leaned back in his chair, one hand on his mouse, the other clenched next to his keyboard. “Uh… yeah.” “And all of that because I called you Vitya?” Victor’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “Not entirely. I was also thinking about the night of the banquet. It was… I’d never felt anything like that.”

 

“I wish I could remember it. I’m assuming you still won’t tell me?” “Ah, there’s some of it I’d be willing to tell you about. If you’d like.” He nodded eagerly before he could even process the offer. “Very well.” Victor ran a hand over his face. “Well first of all, we danced, you know that.” Yuuri nodded.

 

“Then… your coach tried to get you to go to your room. You refused but you were willing enough to come with me.” Yuuri nodded again, fighting another blush. “We kissed in the elevator, just a little. Well, I kissed you. Then, back at your room...”

 

The other man stretched, his chair tipping back a little further. “As soon as we were through the door, you threw me against it, kissed me. Hard. Pressed against me. Your hands were… everywhere. In my hair.” As if to remember, Victor ran one hand through his hair, fist tightening on it. His other was clenched tightly to the armrest of his chair.

 

“On my back. Just… everywhere. You picked me up, kissed me against another wall, held me up against it… then you threw me on the bed and said you wanted to get to know me.” Yuuri felt himself hardening – that was certainly the kind of thing fantasy-Yuuri would do, on a good day. In his imagination, obviously.

 

Victor moaned quietly, his free hand brushing down his chest, his stomach. “I was so desperate for it, Yuuri, you have NO IDEA. You climbed on the bed with me, and when I tried to yank your trousers open… well, you told me no.”

 

That was the part that made no sense to Yuuri. Why would he ever reject THE Victor Nikiforov? It made no sense. He couldn’t think of anyone who would reject him. It was just… unfathomable. “And then…?” Victor chuckled. “Then you said a few things. You made me cry actually. I’d never felt so small in my life.”

 

His hands had stilled, his expression a little more… wistful, almost. Yuuri gulped, arousal fading quickly. “I’m sorry.” The other man froze, both hands dropping to his lap. “I mean! I’m sorry for making you cry. And for forgetting. The rest sounded, uh, pretty spectacular.” Victor smiled weakly. “Yeah, it was. Sorry for getting carried away again. Say, about before… am I being too much? If you want me to be less clingy, you can tell me. I completely understand.”

 

Yuuri had never shaken his head so quickly in his life. “No! Not at all! I was… hurt, I was upset, but not by you. None of it was your fault, like I said. Your messages… they were lovely. They cheered me up, uh, after. Not even Phichit’s hamsters could do that.”

 

The older man grinned. “Phichit. Room-mate but not lover?” “Uh, yes. He has hamsters. Three.” “I see.” “Anyway, I definitely don’t want you to be less clingy. I mean, I, uh, just want you to be yourself.” Yuuri had been playing with the hem of his shirt, unable to look at his screen when he spoke, so by the time he looked back up, he was absolutely baffled to see that Victor was crying.

 

He dimly registered that somehow the man looked even more beautiful than normal that way, quiet as he was, with huge tears falling down his cheeks. “V-Victor? What did I do? What did I say? Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Yuuri was flat-out panicking – how in the world had he made Victor CRY? He half-jumped up from his chair, not that he had any idea what to do or even where to go, when Victor chuckled softly.

 

“Oh Yuuri… don’t be upset. These are… happy tears. I’m not upset or mad or anything.” Yuuri sat back down, suspicious as he was. “What… did I say? All I said was that I want you to be yourself?”

The other man nodded. “That’s right. It was just… a surprise, that’s all.” Yuuri’s panic was rapidly being replaced by complete confusion.

 

“You’re surprised I want you to be yourself? Who did you think I wanted you to be?” Victor shrugged. “Don’t know. The perfect idol on that poster of me you said you have?” Yuuri froze like Victor had not long ago. He’d taken them all down, he knew. They were stashed away, semi-safely. He dimly recalled mentioning them to Victor before...

 

And then he’d forgotten about it because OF COURSE he had.

 

He groaned in shame. Victor laughed, wiping away what seemed to be the last of his tears. “Aw Yuuri! I think it’s adorable that you have a poster of me! As soon as I can, I’ll be getting my hands on some of you!”

 

Yuuri snorted. “I doubt you’d find any. And, for the record, it’s not one poster.” Victor tilted his head, a soft smile on his features. “No? How many? Two? Three?” Yuuri chuckled. “Fourteen, actually, and twice as many in my room in Japan.” He half-expected Victor to be freaked out or maybe even angry… but no, the other skater seemed absolutely delighted.

 

“That’s amazing! Wow! I can’t believe you liked me that much!” Yuuri chuckled. “Well yeah. I’ve been a fan of your skating since I was a kid. The Grand Prix… well, my goal was to stand on the same podium as you, actually. You know how that worked out.”

 

Victor waved him off. “Nothing of it, there will be other years. Yuuri I can’t WAIT to compete with you again! We’ll definitely be on the same podium someday.”

 

He flinched, he couldn’t help it. “Did I… say something wrong?” The other skater asked after a long pause. “Not really. It’s just, uh, I probably won’t keep skating after this season.” “What? Yuuri! Why? You can’t quit! It was just one bad competition!”

 

He shook his head slowly. “Not that… It’s not a problem for you but skating is expensive. My family isn’t very frugal to begin with, so I won’t be able to afford a coach for next season. And without a coach…” He shrugged. No coach, no competitions. There was only so much a skater could do alone. If they could get by without help, in-demand coaches wouldn’t make tens of thousands per year… per skater they coached, which was often more than half a dozen at a time, fewer at higher skill levels.

 

“Yuuri, that’s…” “Well, if I’d medalled in the GP, that would have paid for things, probably. As it is… it’s not so bad. I won’t quit skating entirely, just the competitive side of it.” He felt ashamed, to admit it to Victor, much as it was also a relief.

 

“I won’t let you quit because of a stupid reason like that.” Victor declared and for a moment, Yuuri’s heart clenched with fondness for the other man. Victor barely knew him, yet he seemed to care, so very much. It felt nice, and not much else had in the past week and a half.

 

“If necessary, I’ll coach you!” His head snapped up. “No. Noooo way! Nuh-uh!” Victor visibly deflated at his vehement refusal. “Don’t think I’d be any good, huh?” Yuuri snorted. “It’s not that, I’m sure you’d be a good coach, but you have your own career! You wouldn’t have the time; besides I couldn’t pay you any more than I could pay someone else.” He winced slightly. “Actually, it’d be worse for you. With how many medals you have, you’d probably charge more from each student than most coaches make from all of theirs combined.”

 

Victor laughed. “Well, you could always date me, you know. I wouldn’t charge you then.” He grinned at his monitor. “Are you asking me to sell myself for skating lessons? Surely neither of us is that desperate?” Seeing Victor’s mouth fall open like that was well worth the embarrassment of saying something so ridiculous.

 

“What? Yuuri, no! I didn’t mean it that way, not at all! I just meant that I wouldn’t-” He broke off when he seemed to realise that Yuuri had, in fact, been joking. “You scared me there, Yuuuuri!” The other man complained with a pout.

 

“Sorry, sorry. So, tell me more about your training for nationals? Is it going well?” It was a pathetic attempt at a topic change and he was sure Victor knew it too, but the other man simply smiled, nodded and then launched into a long, long monologue of just about everything that had happened in the time they hadn’t spoken.

 

It was soothing, somehow. Listening to Victor without having to talk, letting the other man’s enthusiasm make up for the dull feeling that seemed to live in his mind. Victor, he decided, was like sunshine. He wasn’t sure how long the other man would remain interested in him, how long until he realised Yuuri was just a washed-up bore, but he was smart enough to bask in it while he held the man’s interest.

 

Didn’t take much convincing, really – Victor was a pretty strong argument all by himself. They spent nearly another hour chatting – well, Victor chatting and Yuuri mostly listening and only occasionally commenting – before Phichit knocked and asked for his laptop back.

 

They exchanged a few more messages, and for the first time in a while, Yuuri fell asleep with a good feeling in his gut rather than dread for the next day. Victor… somehow, the other man had met him where he was, had adjusted himself around Yuuri with such ease that he hadn’t felt like an imposition at all. It was amazing, really, that Victor could make him feel like that, and it was well-worth the snickers he’d gotten from Phichit when he’d handed back the laptop. Of COURSE his friend had been listening at the door. Why wouldn’t he?

 

Yuuri needed better friends.


	9. Chapter 9

Nationals came… too quickly.

 

Yuuri knew he wasn’t ready, even though his practices had been going better. He’d been landing his jumps with some consistency, his routines better overall, but it was hard not to cringe every time he remembered the Grand Prix.

 

Really, the main reason he made it to Tokyo in one piece was… Victor. The older man had somehow become a cornerstone in Yuuri’s life in mere days. They called whenever they could, texted when they couldn’t.

 

Victor sent about four texts for every one of Yuuri’s, and that suited them fine. He asked Yuuri often, if he was annoying, things like that, and Yuuri always truthfully said no. Unexpected as it was to have the other man so consistently paying attention to him, he enjoyed it very much.

 

He hadn’t forgotten his promise either – the promise of a reward if Victor took gold. He had a fairly good idea of what to do and, since he didn’t doubt for a second that he WOULD, Yuuri filled the box he’d bought two days early and mailed it to the address in his phone the morning they were both skating their first programs.

 

It would arrive in Russia hopefully around the time Victor would return to his flat.

 

Really, the man deserved more than the – admittedly huge – box of Japanese snacks, but he still remembered Victor’s joke about cheat days after gold, and he hoped the other man would like it. He owed him a lot, if only for the constant reassurances and praise he received from the other man. Victor never seemed to mind encouraging him, reminding him of how great he could do when he did well.

 

When Yuuri ended the short program in second place after the first day, and Victor landed in first place in his own nationals, they were both absolutely ecstatic. Yuuri hadn’t succeeded in so long, he had almost forgotten how good it felt, how much he hated losing.

 

The next morning however, his nerves had been back in full force. He hadn’t had a full panic attack, but even the trembling, the shaking hands, had been enough to send him to a bathroom stall, frantically calling Victor for a pick-me-up.

 

That was when it had first gone a bit wrong. Victor hadn’t… brushed him off, not as such, but he HAD been short with him, had wished him good luck, had told him he needed to prepare… and then he’d hung up.

 

Yuuri had felt like throwing up. Victor was never like that, never cold, never distant. If anything, the Victor he’d gotten to know over the few weeks they’d been speaking was nothing much like the man shown in magazines and such. He was warmer, kinder, caring even.

 

The Victor that had ended that phone call had been none of those things.

 

When Yuuri stepped on the ice, he already knew it would go wrong. He stumbled on his first triple, downgraded his quad to a double and in his last-ditch effort to save… something, he jumped into his triple axel with too much speed.

 

He landed hard, slid on the ice and when he tried to get back up… he found he couldn’t. Blinded by tears, he let two medics help him up, lift him onto a stretcher and take him to the nearest hospital.

 

It didn’t even occur to him to wonder how Victor had done in his own nationals, not until hours later, when scans, examinations and tests were done, and he had a diagnosis: broken ankle, torn ligament.

 

Six months recovery, likely at least another year of no competitive skating. Turning his phone on and finding no new texts a while later almost felt worse that day, because at least now he didn’t have to worry about the continuation of his career anymore… it was over. Dead. Like this ‘thing’ he’d had with Victor. Everything was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Of course, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done wrong – Victor had been so happy to cheer him up, to make him feel better, so many times. How could one phone call be the tipping point to too much? To make his gentle, caring Victor disappear so easily?

 

It wasn’t fair. The only good thing to come of it all was that he got to see many, many familiar faces again. His sister and his old ballet teacher had both come to see him immediately, had dropped everything to pick him up and take him home.

 

Coming home injured, a failure, had been… surreal. Yes, he had been happy to see his parents, his old childhood friends… but even then, the air in Hasetsu had felt stifling, not pleasant like it used to. Cold, not refreshing.

 

The first text after the horrendous phone call came nearly 48 hours later. Yuuri already knew – Victor had won gold, had broken a world record with his free skate, had skated an exhibition program nobody had seen before. Yuuri hadn’t watched, for the first time since he was twelve.

 

When the text had arrived – a simple ‘Yuuri?’, his reply had been ‘Congratulations on winning gold.’. He’d ignored the thanks, had ignored the questions about how he was. It was petty, a little like the time before… except Victor let him be that time around. Didn’t text except for the occasional ‘How are you doing?’ that went ignored.

 

Yuuri desperately didn’t want to have to think about Victor… or look at him.

 

His family kept him busy enough that it was easy to ignore, easy to forget, most of the time. His sister – the one he asked for help with taking down all the posters – uncharacteristically said nothing at all about his request. Empty walls, slightly discoloured from years of being covered by paper, stared down at him as he rested in bed.

 

A week of bed rest followed by a week of physical therapy. The time went by easy, quickly even. After those two weeks though, Yuuri was sick of it, sick of it all. Sick of the coddling, sick of the care everyone took around him, sick of how CONSIDERATE everyone was being.

 

He was sick of not being able to skate, and most of all, he was sick of the state of affairs between Victor and himself. So, he yanked out his phone, in the middle of a Thursday morning, uncaring of the time difference, not at all bothered that he’d be waking Victor up in the middle of the night and dialled.

 

The phone rang twice before Victor picked up. They were both silent for a long time. Eventually, Yuuri realised he’d have to be the first to speak. “I miss you.” It was pathetic really. Not just the fact that he DID in fact miss the other man’s constant attention, but that rather than some kind of apology for his behaviour, that was all he could offer.

 

Victor seemed to think so too, because he ended the call a few seconds later.

 

Yuuri was proud of himself – he didn’t even cry afterwards.

* * *

 Less than 24 hours after the failed attempt to call – he checked later, it was just about 20 hours – his sister slammed open his door unannounced, waking him from a deep sleep. He rolled out of bed, forgetting his cast and landed hard on the floor, grateful his bed was quite low to begin with as he tried to escape his blanket.

 

“Yuuri!” His sister practically screamed – unusual, for her. “Mari… what time is it?” “Doesn’t matter! He’s HERE, Yuuri! He CAME!” Yuuri groaned. “Who? What? Mari?” Yuuri didn’t do waking up very well at the best of times and that time certainly wasn’t his best. Finally struggling free of his blanket, he awkwardly climbed to his feet. He could walk without crutches, but not far at all, and generally only while also leaning against a wall.

 

So, wobbling, he stood, waiting for his older sister to make some sense already. Eyes blurry since he didn’t have his glasses, he was quite startled when instead of explaining, she snatched his glasses from his bedside table, practically slammed them onto his face and then all but shoved him out of his own door.

 

Shoved was a strong word, really, since she mostly just gently pushed him at a pace he could manage on his own, but since it happened hours before sunrise, he decided to stick with shoved. He stumbled where his sister led, towards the entrance of their family’s onsen.

 

By the time he reached the front door, he was mostly awake, a light pain thrumming through his leg already from the unexpected exertion. Of course, he forgot all about that the second he saw WHY he’d been dragged out of bed so suddenly. It seemed surreal really.

 

Victor Nikiforov was standing between his parents, both of whom were excitedly babbling in broken English. He’d have fallen if it hadn’t been for a quick supporting hand from his sister. She held him up, easily enough. Thoughts racing at a hundred miles a minute, Yuuri couldn’t think of a single thing to say to the other man.

 

His sister unsubtly whacking him in the shoulder was what knocked him out of his shell-shocked state. “Victor. You’re, uh, here?” The Russian nodded. Yuuri dimly heard his sister, his mother say something, probably to him, but he was too busy staring to listen.

 

“You should… sit down? Maybe?” Wordlessly, he turned and hobbled down the hallway, back to his room. Victor followed, quietly. Yuuri’s heart was practically beating out of his chest when he finally sank back down on his bed, injured leg extended out. Victor was standing in his door, seemingly unsure if he was allowed further.

 

“Come on in.” He offered the other man -Victor barely paused before stepping in. He slid the door shut behind himself and hesitantly took off his coat. For the first time, Yuuri noticed that the other man looked… quite terrible, really. He’d lost some weight, but more than that, his skin looked too pale, the bags under his eyes too dark. He looked… sick.

 

“No posters?” Victor asked, looking around. Yuuri shrugged. “Didn’t feel like them anymore. They’re under my desk if you want to look at yourself so badly.” The full-body flinch the other man gave in reaction to Yuuri’s mean words almost felt good to him, much as he knew it shouldn’t.

 

“How did you get here so quickly? I called you less than a day ago. Or were you planning on coming already?” Victor leaned against his desk. “I wasn’t. I mean, I got out of bed as soon as you called, got dressed and got a cab to the airport. Took three planes and about 15 hours to get here, then a few hours’ drive and… here I am.” Yuuri nodded. He’d thought it would take at least a day or two to get most of the way across the world – apparently not.

 

“And why are you here?” Victor took a deep breath before stepping over, half-way across the room in half a step. He sat down, legs crossed next to Yuuri’s leg. “May I?” Yuuri nodded. His leg was lifted, gently, and placed in Victor’s lap.

 

The older man’s fingers traced the edges of the cast, the rough outside of it. Although he could tell that Victor was barely touching, it was almost like he could feel the fingers on his skin instead. Victor said nothing, not for a while as he studied the cast. Eventually, he curled forwards, over Yuuri’s leg, until he had his cheek pressed against Yuuri’s calf, his pyjama pants bunched up over the cast.

 

It couldn’t have been comfortable for the other man; not bent like he was. “Is this… is this my fault?” Victor eventually asked, his voice bitter. Yuuri blinked. “Is it… WHAT?” He couldn’t quite believe his ears. Victor didn’t look up.

 

“Your injury. Was it my fault? Did you fall because of how I was when you called me?” Yuuri sighed. “Of course not. Why would you think that? I fell because I wasn’t good enough. Because I was nervous. I knew as soon as I stepped on the ice.”

  
Suddenly, Victor’s head reared up, rage clear in his tired eyes. “Then WHY? WHY did you skate if you knew it wouldn’t work?” Yuuri smiled wryly. “Don’t give me that. You’d have skated too.” Victor hissed. “Maybe. How long…?” Yuuri shrugged. “My career is over. Six months until I can skate again. A year until I’d be back in competition shape. I wouldn’t even get to try to get anywhere until I’m nearly 25… and we both know that that’s too old.”

 

Victor mirrored his smile. “I’m 27 now. Doesn’t mean it’s over.” Yuuri let his eyes drop to his lap. “It feels like it’s over. That’s… okay. I mean, it’s not, but I’ve accepted it. It happened. Nothing I can do.”

 

They were quiet for a long time, Yuuri’s leg sitting on Victor’s lap, neither of them moving. “I blame myself for it, you know?” The Russian skater eventually spoke. “For my injury? That’s nonsense.”

 

“Hear me out, please.” Yuuri fell quiet. “I just… I knew as soon as I’d hung up that I treated you badly and that you didn’t deserve it. I was nervous. I had… a plan, for that performance. I got so caught up in it, I didn’t notice you needed me. I saw, afterwards, in the recordings, how you looked before you even took your skate guards off.”

 

Victor ran his thumb over the top edge of his cast. “As soon as I stepped off the ice, they told me – Yuri, Russian Yuri, had been watching. He told me you were hurt, had to go to the hospital. I went… a little insane. I swear I called at least a dozen people before I found someone willing to tell me what was going on with you.”

 

Yuuri sighed – so much for patient confidentiality, apparently. “I was so, so angry with myself for how I acted. And a little at you as well because you didn’t even see what I did in my program and I just…” His fingers tightened on Yuuri’s cast. “I went home, and I couldn’t even message you. I was… again, I was caught up in myself, god I was so SELFISH. I didn’t message you because I was sure you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

 

“I decided you had to be mad, that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. And then… then I got that package from you.” Yuuri froze for a moment – he had completely forgotten about his gift for Victor. It had been a silly thing really – he’d walked into a supermarket and bought up every single snack he could find that he thought Victor might like, then filled up a box with it. He’d paid a ridiculous fee to ship it to the address Victor had saved into his phone… and forgotten all about it.

 

“And I realised…” The older man shuddered. “I realised that in order for that to arrive when it did, you had to have sent it in advance. And that’s when I REALLY realised how badly I messed up. I remembered asking for a reward, but you didn’t even wait for the event. You just had faith in me, that I’d do it. And you sent me something thoughtful, something I absolutely loved.”

 

Yuuri shifted, a little uncomfortable. Of course he’d had faith in Victor – how could he not have? “I realised then that I did it wrong, that I was trying to impress you so much I lost sight of what I SHOULD have cared about.” “Impress me?” Yuuri asked.

 

Victor glanced up, half-shrugging. “I set a new world record because I upgraded a few jumps – I had five quads. First skater in history to do that. I was trying to SHOW OFF to you, and I got nervous about it, and because of that I didn’t even realise that what you wanted from me wasn’t skating, but… assurance.”

 

“I didn’t even notice, I was so focused. And then the box came and I just… I wanted to call you. So badly. I couldn’t though, because I knew you had to be so hurt already and then just… I was waiting, desperately hoping that you’d somehow tell me that it was okay to talk to you, and I know that that’s still stupidly selfish of me. I just… when you called me, and I came here…” He trailed off and Yuuri was fairly certain the other man had finally finished.

 

He pulled back his leg, shifting until it sat in a more comfortable position. Tears had started streaming down his cheeks a while ago and he let them, easily. He wasn’t a pretty crier like Victor, but he couldn’t have cared less. “I never… you didn’t need to impress me with your skating or whatever. I’ve admired that since I was a kid. What I wanted from you was… you were so nice to me, cheered me up. That’s what I needed. Whether you had one quad or ten, I wouldn’t have cared. You’re an amazing skater, I knew that. I wanted… I needed the Victor that would be there for me.”

 

Victor curled in on himself as if Yuuri had struck him. “I was hurt and confused and lonely. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong, why you suddenly didn’t… care. I didn’t need your stupid quads, Victor, just your support.” The other man hung his head in defeat. “And I let you down in every way.”

 

Yuuri said nothing. He wasn’t even sure how he was feeling any more. He’d been angry at Victor, angry at himself, for what had happened. He didn’t blame the other man for his fall, nor even for focusing on his skating above all else. They were professional athletes. It was to be expected. The only thing he DID blame him for was for not talking to him properly.

 

Even as he thought so though, he looked more closely at Victor. He looked like hell, was even trembling slightly. “Not in EVERY way.” He mumbled a peace offering, the biggest he could manage. Victor raised his head again, a guarded expression in his face. “What do you mean?”

 

“You didn’t let me down in every way.” “Oh?” Yuuri blushed slightly. “When I called… you came. From the sound of it, dropped everything actually and came running.” Victor sighed. “I… had to. I had to… apologise in person.” Yuuri chuckled. “You realise you haven’t actually apologised, right?”

 

Blue eyes blinked up at him in confusion. A moment later, Victor was on his feet, loudly cursing in Russian and storming out of his room. Yuuri was left behind, half-surprised half-amused.

 

Hearing the other man’s explanation had… helped. At the very least, it had helped him understand. He felt a little bit more alive for it, much as he was still processing things. Mostly, it was Victor’s sudden departure that had him puzzled. Had the man forgotten something? Remembered something important?

 

For once, Yuuri was relatively certain he hadn’t actually said anything wrong. With his leg aching, he laid down, slipping under his blanket again, content to wait for the other skater to return. He would.


	11. Chapter 11

When Yuuri woke up again, the sun was already in the sky and he was still alone. He stood up, carefully changed into fresh clothing and ambled towards the kitchen before he realised that he hadn’t dreamed the morning, that Victor really HAD appeared at his family’s hot springs resort and then… stormed off again.

 

He considered going back for his phone but decided against it. It was too far, he was too hungry. To his surprise, there was no need to text or call the man – he was sitting in their private dining room, clad in one of the inn’s robes, and halfway through what smelled suspiciously like katsudon.

 

Yuuri sat down opposite of him. “Yuuri! Good morning! I’m so glad you’re awake, let me get your things!” Unable to so much as return the greeting as he hurried off AGAIN, Yuuri eyed Victor’s bowl. He was indeed having katsudon, and Yuuri was verrrry hungry…

 

He’d pulled the bowl over and started eating before he could think better of it. He loved katsudon, after all. Two bites later, Victor returned with… flowers. Lots of them. Dozens, actually. He set down one of the biggest bouquets of red, long-stemmed roses Yuuri had ever seen. He took another bite of pork cutlet.

 

The flowers were beautiful. Victor, however, had disappeared again. The next time he returned, he did so with… another bouquet of red roses, just as big. Yuuri watched, eating Victor’s food as he did so. A third bouquet appeared, and then a fourth, smaller one.

 

Eventually, breathing a little hard, Victor himself returned, standing in the door awkwardly. Yuuri looked back and forth between him and what had to be hundreds of roses in disbelief. “Victor…?” The older man ran a hand through his hair.

 

“I’m not good at dealing with people’s feelings like this. I’m not… any good at apologising. I, uh, asked your sister for advice and she said to get you flowers.” Yuuri glanced at the bouquets. “What were her exact words?”

 

“‘I don’t know just get him some flowers or something’ is what I said.” His sister said from the other door – she had been outside to smoke. “Yes. So, these are three hundred and twenty-two roses, Yuuri.” He swallowed, with some difficulty, the food in his mouth. “That’s… a lot.” He offered, unsure what else to say.

 

Victor nodded eagerly. “Yes! I had to drive to all three flower-shops in Hasetsu to get them all together.” “I see. And… why?” Yuuri set his chopsticks down, an odd sensation tickling his stomach. “It’s one for every hour that has passed since… well, since you fell.” He gave Yuuri an expectant look, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction.

 

Yuuri stared at the flowers before him, idly trailing his fingers over one of them. They were all quite beautiful.

 

The whole thing was… absolutely ridiculous.

 

He burst into laughter, curling in on himself, actually holding his stomach as he kept laughing, more and more until he was getting light-headed from it and his sides hurt. It felt… it felt fantastic. He looked up at Victor, not all that surprised to find that his eyes were a little watery as well. The Russian man looked completely floored. Whatever reaction he had expected, clearly laughter hadn’t been it.

 

Mari, on the other hand, a glance revealed, looked at best, smug. Still wheezing, he turned towards Victor. “This-” He pointed at the flowers. “Is the stupidest damn apology I’ve ever seen. Can’t you just say sorry like a normal person?”

 

Victor pouted. “But Yuuri! Normal sorrys are for normal mistakes. What I did needed something… bigger.” Yuuri snickered. “I think you had big covered when you FLEW HERE IN LESS THAN A DAY.” Victor crossed his arms. “You… think so?” Yuuri nodded eagerly. “Definitely. What am I going to DO with all these?”

 

His sister cleared her throat. “He kept them in the dining hall so far. I kind of saw this coming so I already called Minako. She’s coming by later to pick them up and donate them to the nursing homes in the area. Sound good to you?” Yuuri nodded. “I’d like to keep a few, but a NORMAL amount will do.”

 

“Sure thing little bro. Oh I never thought I’d see the day a handsome foreigner would sweep in and romance my little brother with hundreds of roses.” “Mari! It’s not like that.” To his surprise, Victor chuckled as well. “Oh it’s definitely not that. I’m under no delusions regarding Yuuri’s interest in me after what I did. He’d have to be an idiot to have any interest at all at this point.”

 

His sister snickered, ignoring the glare Yuuri shot her. “Well, Victor, let me give you some advice then. In my experience with him, my baby brother has ALWAYS been an idiot. I’ll leave you two to it.” Indeed, after another half-mocking, half-meaningful look, she left the room, sliding the door shut behind herself.

 

Yuuri turned back towards Victor. The other man was shifting around slightly. “Do you… like them? You haven’t really said…” Yuuri awkwardly shifted to the side, studying the man before him. “There’s something I’d like better than the flowers.” Victor stepped closer. “Anything, Yuuri.” “Apologise to me. Properly. In words.” He patted the floor before him, pleased when Victor knelt down a few inches away from him.

 

“Yuuri Katsuki… I’m so, so very sorry for how I behaved towards you. I never meant you any harm, but I still messed up absolutely everything. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I would… definitely like it if you could. Someday, maybe. I’d like that a lot.”

 

Yuuri surged forwards as soon as the other man finished speaking, his arms wrapped around Victor’s shoulders. The man was tense, frozen stiff in his embrace. He relaxed after a few moments and gentle arms settled around his lower back, a barely-there pressure.

 

“Idiot.” Yuuri whispered to him. “I forgave you the minute I saw you in that door. I just needed to hear you say it.” All at once, the arms around him tightened into a nearly painfully tight hold, crushing him against Victor’s chest awkwardly.

 

It was just what he needed.

 

“God, Yuuri, I’m so, so sorry.” “It’s okay, Victor. I didn’t… handle it well either. I’m sorry too. For making you think it was your fault. I never meant to be a burden.” Victor whined. “You’re not a burden, Yuuri. You never could be. You’re the reason I skated as well as I did. Did you… afterwards, did you see?”

 

Yuuri drew back, pleased when Victor released him only slowly. “To be honest… no. It’s your first performance in the last ten or so years I didn’t watch. I was too… upset.” “I understand. Would you, maybe, be willing to watch it now?” Yuuri chuckled. “Why not. Mind if I get back to my room first?”

 

“Of course! Do you need me to carry you?” Yuuri chuckled. “I can walk, Victor. Give me a hand up?” The other man did, of course, and he pulled him up with enough strength to nearly knock them both over. Victor followed on his heels back to his room, even went so far as to fluff his pillow for him before he sat down.

 

It was equally sweet and plain odd. Victor Nikiforov, his childhood idol and reigning, well everything-champion, was fussing over him like a husband over his pregnant wife. Yuuri sighed, as Victor sat, legs crossed, in front of his bed. “Your recovery...” Victor began but then broke off.

 

“What about it? I’ve got another week in my cast, and about a month of physio left. Then, strength training. I’m making good progress so I’m hoping I’ll be back on the ice sooner.” Victor nodded. “You know… I had knee-surgery a few years back. Took me out for half a season. It’s the only reason only four of my five championship titles are consecutive.”

 

Yuuri chuckled. “I know. Why?” “Well… I worked with the best physiotherapists in the business, back then. I could get you in touch with some of them? If you’d like?” Yuuri sighed. “I couldn’t afford them. It’s nice of you to offer, though.” Victor glared at him. “I wasn’t asking for you to PAY, Yuuri!” “Well, I wouldn’t exactly accept charity either. Or is this another part of that challenge of yours?”

 

He didn’t expect the flinch Victor gave, nor the way his hands tightened into fists. “Ah, Yuuri, I meant what I said. I don’t expect you to… to still have an interest in me that way. If anything, the only thing I’ve proved so far is that I’m NOT worth your time.” “Victor, that’s ridiculous. Aren’t you going to let me decide what I want and don’t want?”

 

“Are you saying I still have a chance?” Yuuri chuckled. “I’m saying that the only thing you showed me in all of this is that you’re human, and that you make mistakes. If you want to stop, that’s fine. As far as I’m concerned… I was happy the way things were going.” “Oh _Yuuri_...”

 

Victor’s voice held something strange, but before he could think about it too much, gentle hands pressed insistently against his shoulders, pressed him down into the bed before a warm body carefully blanketed his. He stiffened for a few moments before Victor settled his face against his shoulder.

 

He could hear the man whisper something in Russian – he had no idea what it was, but it felt comforting. He also wasn’t blind to the way the man trembled, so he allowed himself to relax under his… friend? That wasn’t right. He had no idea what they were, really. Almost automatically, he settled his hand low on Victor’s back and pressed down, almost as if to make sure the other man was really there.

 

He wondered, dimly, if he was being stupid about all of it, whether it would be better to back out, to tell Victor no, thanks… but then he glanced over to the empty poster spots on his walls. Glancing down, he thought about the Victor in his arms. The man that had dropped everything and come running wasn’t anything like THE Victor Nikiforov.

 

“Vitya...” He mumbled, making the man’s blue eyes flutter open. “Am I hurting you?” “No. I was just thinking… that I’m… glad, somehow. That you’re… here. I mean, it sounds stupid, but you help, somehow.” Victor sighed. “I… haven’t been sleeping. The last few weeks. I just… I train, I eat, I walk Makkachin and then I pretend to sleep for a few hours. You… you help me too. I…” He trailed off, a hand brushing over Yuuri’s arm.

 

“Hey now, I’m the one that’s supposed to be all emotional, right?” Yuuri teased. Victor pouted. “I thought you wanted me to be myself?” He grinned down at the older man. “I do. I’m just trying to think… where we go from here.”

 

Victor hummed against his shoulder. “Good question. Where would you like to go?” “The rink.” He immediately answered. “Not skating is driving me mad. I’ve put on weight just from being here for a few days!” Victor chuckled, his hand brushing against Yuuri’s waist. “It suits you. You look beautiful this way.” “Don’t try to flatter me. Back to the topic at hand… I don’t know. I feel… raw.”

 

“I know what you mean. I’m not used to dealing with this sort of thing.” Yuuri snorted. “Yes, well, I sort of am, but this is still worse than normal.” “Is there something I could do to make it better? Help you relax?” Victor’s hand, still on his waist, pressed down. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“Victor…” The other man pulled away and nuzzled against his shoulder. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t even want… urgh.” Yuuri tensed. “If you don’t then why did you…?” The other man shrugged. “Because I want to be there for whatever you need. I screwed up so, so badly and I want to do everything I can to make up for it.”

 

Yuuri pursed his lips. “Ne, Vitya?” The older man shuddered. “Yes?” “I don’t want you to… sacrifice yourself for me. I want to… help you if I can, like you help me. If I can. If you want.” Enveloped in a crushing hug, Yuuri smiled to himself. “I… want to hold you.” The other man offered and Yuuri shifted a little, until they were both wrapped around each other.

 

“Like so?” “Perfect, Yuuri. I… can I sleep?” Reflexively, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his companion’s head, pleased when Victor’s breath hitched. “Sleep, Vitya.” He mumbled.


	12. Chapter 12

In the end, they both passed out.

 

When they woke, it was dinner time. Victor, Yuuri found, slipped into his family like he’d always been there. There was a significant language barrier between him and his parents, but Victor acted like it was no big deal, laughing, gesturing and communicating just fine.

 

It made Yuuri feel warm – not in a subtle way either because Mari kept shooting him knowing looks. For once, he didn’t care, was simply… happy when more often than not, Victor was brushing against him somehow, an elbow, a knee, a thigh.

 

Yuuri’s parents absolutely adored the man too – they knew a little about him, and though Yuuri had worried a little about what they might say to him bringing a man home, however indirectly, Victor’s natural charm won them over instantly.

 

They had dinner together before Yuuri showed Victor the baths – needless to say, the man loved them. Yuuri left him to bathe by himself, since he wasn’t actually allowed in with his cast, choosing to spend the time fixing up a room for Victor in the meantime. Since it was off-season, the inn wasn’t fully booked and there was a room not far from Yuuri’s own that his mother had insisted the skater stay in.

 

It was all terribly domestic and Yuuri guiltily loved every minute of it. Seeing Victor laugh with his family, pray at Vicchan’s shrine… it washed away a lot of the negativity that had built up in Yuuri. He hadn’t even realised how bad he had truly felt until Victor had arrived, and he almost wished he could have had the courage to call him sooner – if only because it might have saved the other man a few hundred dollars in roses.

 

Smiling at the bouquet of eight roses sitting on his desk, he shook his head. Victor was so over the top in everything he did… and Yuuri liked it. Somehow, they balanced each other out in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t perfect, but when Victor ‘snuck’ into his room after his bath – that is to say, walked down the hallway whistling to himself – Yuuri had a dizzying moment of ‘what if’.

 

What if Victor stayed, what if they trained together, what if he didn’t retire… then his ankle throbbed painfully, and he shook off the thought.

 

“Yuuuuuri?” Victor asked after a while of comfortable silence between them. “Hm?” “You said there’s a rink nearby?” “Mh. Belongs to friends of mine.” Victor shifted closer. “Can we go? Yakov will have my head if I don’t practice.” Yuuri smiled softly. “Do you drive?” Victor blinked. “Well… not in Japan.”

 

“Then let’s get a cab. Do you have skates?” Victor shook his head. “What’s your size?” “Fourty-two.” The other man answered and Yuuri blinked. “Uhm… and in, uh Japanese sizing?” Victor chuckled, pulled his phone out and looked it up. “Twenty-nine apparently.” Yuuri sighed. “Can’t lend you mine then. I’m smaller than that. Well, they have rental skates. Is that okay with you?”

 

Victor nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t have asked you to lend me yours.” “Ah, they’re better quality and I’m not using them either way, so…” A flash of emotion crossed Victor’s face, only to be replaced with a blank smile a moment later. “It’s fine. Rentals are fine. Call us a cab?”

 

Yuuri agreed and used Victor’s phone to call a cab for them before getting dressed. It didn’t occur to him until afterwards that he had done so with Victor watching. Oops. Turning awkwardly, he found the other man looking at him with something akin to hunger. Of course, Victor hadn’t noticed his gaze yet because his eyes were trained to Yuuri’s ass.

 

Well then. “Vitya. My eyes are up here.” To say that the other man blushed a bright pink would be an understatement – he practically scrambled back when he noticed he got caught. “Y-Yuuri! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He grinned down at the other. “It’s okay. You’ve seen more than that, haven’t you?” Victor whined and scrambled off Yuuri’s bed.

 

“I should, uh, get ready.” With that, he practically dashed off. Yuuri watched him in amusement. For someone so flirty, so pushy, the strangest things seemed to make him shy. It was oddly… fun. Yuuri made his very slow way to the entrance, where Victor was already waiting, fidgeting a little.

 

He’d changed clothes. “You ready?” He asked the other and Victor nodded. Their cab was waiting, and they slid into the backseat quietly, Yuuri texting Yuuko about his plans to stop by on the way. The ride was only about ten minutes long, and soon they were walking the familiar steps to the Ice Castle, a walk that Yuuri had taken a thousand times before… except never with Victor, and never in a cast.

 

Victor, who was fussing about his ankle, insisted on giving him a helping hand up the few steps they had to talk and who even held the door open for him. If he hadn’t already known that the man regretted what had happened between them, that would have proven it to him.

 

Yuuko was already waiting at the counter, chatting amicably to her husband. Nishigori stood with his back to them, so Yuuko spotted Yuuri first. He waved, happy to see his childhood friend again… though her reaction was a little unusual.

 

She practically screamed, pointed at him and leapt across the counter towards them.

 

Then, two things happened at once. Yuuko reached out towards him, ready to tackle him in a hug, and Victor stepped between them, rather roughly shoving his friend away. Yuuko stumbled and Yuuri found himself half-hidden behind Victor.

 

“Victor! What are you doing? That’s Yuuko! She’s my friend!” Victor gave him an impatient look. “She could have hurt your ankle like that.” Yuuri looked down at his cast, having temporarily forgotten about it. “Oh no, Yuuri, I’m so sorry! I forgot about it too! I was just so excited! And oh my god I can’t believe you brought THE Victor Nikiforov here! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Abruptly, Yuuri realised that he really had forgotten – he’d only texted her that ‘they’ would be there soon. He noticed the tension that gripped Victor at her words. Out of reflex, he brushed his fingers over the other man’s arm, a gesture hidden from the others by their bodies. Victor relaxed a little.

 

“Yuuko, sorry for not telling you. Any chance you can give him a pair of skates?” She nodded excitedly. “Are you going to train here? Oh that’s so exciting! Can we watch? My daughters LOVE you!” Victor put on a brilliant smile – one Yuuri instantly recognised as fake. “Sure! How old are they?”

 

He followed a step behind as Victor and the babbling Yuuko walked ahead. “Not bad, man.” Nishigori’s deep voice called from behind him. “Huh?” “Good catch.” He pointed at Victor’s back. “What? N-No, it’s not like that!” He quickly denied, instinctively weary of his former childhood bully. A strong hand clasped his shoulder. “Relax. I wasn’t going to tease you. He’s protective, isn’t he? You know, I’ve been listening to Yuu-chan talk about that man basically my entire life? How DID you end up here with him anyway?”

 

Yuuri blushed. “Uh, we made friends at the Grand Prix. We’ve been keeping in touch and he came… to visit.” Nishigori snickered. “That so?” They were slowly making their way towards the rink. “Uh, yes?” “I see.” The man’s tone was oddly smug as he pulled out a phone and tapped the screen a few times.

 

“So, what’s that then?” He held out his phone and Yuuri accepted it, quickly scanning the headline of a news article.

 

“Victoooor!” His shout echoed through the entire empty hall and he didn’t miss the way the man flinched and then scampered over. “You called?” Yuuri thrust the phone in his face. “What is that?” He practically hissed. Victor winked at him. “An article in a language I can’t read, Yuuri.” He snatched the phone back, embarrassed that he’d forgotten.

 

“This! This says that you disappeared hours before you were due for an exhibition skate at some festival? And that people are now suspecting you’re injured? OR DEAD?” Victor grinned. “Oh don’t worry, I told my coach. He made Yuri skate the program. He did just win his second Junior title.”

 

“Victor! That’s so irresponsible!” The other man pouted. “I had to come though, didn’t I?” Yuuri spluttered a little – of course he was HAPPY the other man had done it, but to think that he’d carelessly abandoned his responsibilities for it…

 

“You can’t just do something like this! You could have waited, gone after the event or something!” Victor waved him off. “There’s always an event or training or something. It wasn’t anything important. Besides, let them think I’m injured. It’ll make it easier for me at Worlds.”

 

With that and another wink, he skipped back to Yuuko. A decidedly sympathetic arm wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulders. For a few moments, the other man said nothing and Yuuri almost hoped Nishigori would let it go.

 

Of course, he did not.

 

“Well, he’ll make you a wonderful wife someday.” Yuuri said nothing, simply hobbled to the benches near the rink, sitting on one of the raised stands to watch Victor warm up in rental skates. Yuuko, who had already gone off to fetch her triplets, had left him with her phone, ordering him to record anything and everything Victor did.

 

He had passed the phone to her husband, utterly unwilling to do something so embarrassing. Not that Victor seemed to mind his eyes on him – his warm-up was interspersed by plenty of smiles and glances in Yuuri’s direction, usually followed by Nishigori’s snickers.

 

He was almost relieved when three tiny figure skating addicts dashed into the hall a few minutes later. The Nishigoris only lived a few minutes away themselves, so fetching the kids was a quick thing. Each of the triplets was holding at least half a dozen things they handed to Victor to sign.

 

His smile was a little less forced as he patiently worked his way through it all. It was hard to tell which of the four women around him was the worst when it came to fangirling. Eventually, when they showed no sign of stopping, Yuuri climbed down from the stands.

 

“Uh, guys? Victor’s warmed up, you should let him skate. I’m sure you can chat to him later? Didn’t you want to film something?” Mother and three daughters didn’t even bother replying before dashing over to their husband and father, nearly knocking Yuuri over in the process.

 

A strong arm steadied him, and he found himself looking up – Victor was significantly taller in his skates. “Thank you for the rescue, Yuuri. You have interesting friends.” He blushed a little. “I’m sorry about them. Uh, Yuuko is the one who first told me about you. She’s the reason I started skating as well.”

 

Victor looked over to the woman in question and flashed her a bright smile – that one wasn’t fake, Yuuri realised. “Then she’s my new favourite person after you. Watch me skate?” “Of course.” He replied – as if there was a snowball’s chance in hell he WOULDN’T.

 

Leaning against the rink-barrier since Victor seemed to want him down there, he watched as the man cautiously tested the skates, skating circles and figure eights a few times. He seemed satisfied with his findings – not surprising, Yuuko kept good quality equipment.

 

Eventually, he took position in the middle of the rink and gave Yuuri a smile that made his knees a little weak. He was startled for a moment, when he realised that Victor was going to skate an actual routine rather than just training.

 

If the semi-hushed squeals were anything to go by, Yuuko, Axel, Loop and Lutz had realised as well. Yuuri kept his eyes glued to Victor. The man didn’t have music, but it was impossible to tell once he started moving. Yuuri knew the routine at least in part – Victor’s Free Skate, though altered a fair bit.

  
His steps were smoother, his spins a little bit faster. His jumps – Yuuri knew the sequence, more or less. His first triple lutz was downgraded to a double and the landing was a little wonky. Yuuri was convinced it was the skates – the other man wouldn’t wobble on a double-jump otherwise.

 

He was proven right when he jumped a perfectly executed quad toe loop a moment later. Victor was… beautiful on the ice, as always. A quad flip had him holding his breath – Victor executed his signature move perfectly.

 

A triple-triple combination was replaced with something achingly familiar – a triple, single, double combo that was something of a signature move of his own. Yuuri couldn’t help his smile – it was pretty obvious what Victor was doing.

 

He jumped a quad toe loop double flip combination and Yuuri could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest. He knew what Victor was doing. Three quads already, and he was barely halfway through the program.

 

A stunningly beautiful spin sequence later, Victor landed – and wobbled a little – on a quad Salchow. Yuuri gripped the edge of the rink tighter, spell-bound by Victor’s skating. He’d seen him skate a hundred times, but never like that, never… for him.

 

He blinked away a tear when Victor launched into another jump – he knew what it would be moments before the man jumped. Another quad loop backed up with a triple loop. Victor had done it – five quads in one routine.

 

He watched the other man finish his step sequence, his last combination spin, before he came to a halt on the ice, in the same position he’d started in. Yuuri shivered. Victor was breathing hard, sweat visible on his brow, his shoulders tense.

 

Victor had just skated the most difficult routine in figure skating history. In practice skates. For him. Yuuri ached for his skates, for the ability to glide over to the other man, to wrap him in his arms. He needn’t have worried – mere moments later, Victor skated to him, laughing even as he was panting for breath.

 

“Yuuri! What did you think? Did you like it?” Victor brushed his sleeve over his forehead as he slowed down at the barrier, hands resting on the edge.

 

Entirely uncaring about his cast, Yuuri leapt up, yanked Victor down by the front of his shirt and pressed their mouths together. Victor stiffened for a heartbeat, then practically melted into the kiss, leaning down, resting his elbows on the barrier so that Yuuri could stand properly.

  
Gloved fingers fanned through the hair at the base of his neck and Yuuri found his kiss eagerly returned. Eventually, when a certain warmth began to settle in his stomach, he released Victor’s shirt and pulled back with a sigh.

 

Victor’s heated gaze made him shiver. “That was… you’re amazing. Thank you for skating it for us.” The other skater chuckled, glancing at Yuuri’s friends. “I didn’t. I skated it for you. I only changed it for you in the first place. I could’ve taken gold with just one quad.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “No doubt. Want to keep training? Or cool down?” Victor sighed. “It’s been a few days. I’ll get some actual training in. You should sit with the others though. You need to watch your ankle.”

 

He happily hobbled over to his friends, sitting next to Yuuko, as far from the triplets as he physically could get. To his surprise, his friend didn’t tease him or scream or anything. She just gave him a warm smile and gently squeezed his hand.

 

“That was beautiful, wasn’t it?” She asked a moment later. Yuuri sighed. “Yeah. He always is.” “He set records with that routine. First ever with five quads. Beat his own record on scoring as well.” She added. He nodded – he was well aware.

 

“Are you going to tell me how exactly you and him became you and him? You used to collect paper cut-outs of interviews he did as a kid.” Yuuri laughed. “I did, didn’t I? And now Victor followed me to Japan because he felt guilty for upsetting me. God, what is my life?”

 

Yuuko wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “How is he?” “What do you mean?” “I mean… is he good to you?” Startled by the protective tone, he studied his friend for a moment, then smiled. “He’s… wonderful. He meets me where I am, even when he doesn’t realise. We haven’t yet… you know, but so far it’s been… amazing.”

 

“Yuuuuuuriiiii!” His head automatically snapped around to meet Victor’s eyes. The man was standing at the far end of the rink… pouting. “You’re supposed to watch me train, not gossip!” Yuuri huffed. “Jealous, isn’t he?” Yuuko snickered.

 

Yuuri grinned slyly. Victor had just pushed off for what appeared to be the lead-up to a triple axel. He took a deep breath. “Just telling her how good you are in bed!”

 

He saw something he never thought he would – Victor Nikiforov didn’t just fumble a jump, he wiped out before he could even get his feet off the ice.

 

He felt a little guilty as he stared down at the man, sitting on his ass, his face torn between complete bafflement and a blush. For added effect, Yuuri winked at him. The blush won out. Victor scrambled up, wiped himself off and skated a few circles.

 

Nishigori whistled. “Nice one, Yuuri. Didn’t think you had it in you.” “Haven’t yet.” He replied before he could think better of it, only to slap a hand over his mouth a moment later. The silence between the three adults was nearly deafening before his childhood friends started howling with laughter.

 

Yuuko laughed tears while Nishigori nearly slipped off the bench. On the ice, Victor landed a perfect triple axel – probably the most technically perfect one Yuuri had ever seen.

 

He joined in on his friends’ laughter.


	13. Chapter 13

Victor skated, jumped and practiced for almost an hour before Nishigori decided it was time to take his daughters home, leaving Yuuri with Yuuko and Victor. The three girls were almost asleep on their feet, bags of newly-signed things with them.

 

Yuuko bumped her shoulder against Yuuri’s when they were gone. “How are you doing, Yuuri? With your leg and all that?” He glanced at his childhood crush. He’d been asked that question by friends, family, doctors, nurses, therapists and even a few fans.

 

“I’m okay.” He answered. Since Victor’s arrival, it wasn’t even a lie anymore. “I’m better now.” “I’m glad. We’ve all missed you, you know. When you fell… we were all watching.” Yuuri sighed. “Yeah, I know. It was… Honestly, I’m lucky I ever went this long without severe injuries. Most skaters have far more and earlier in their careers.”

  
Yuuko didn’t reply.

 

Victor was in the middle of a combination spin when Yuuri decided to go down to the rink again. Yuuko didn’t mind as he leaned next to the gate and watched Victor skate from up close. The man was focused, a slight frown in his features as he finished the spin. He’d seen it before, the determination, the single-minded attention the other man skated with.

 

Yuuri admired it very much, always had. It was, however, the moment when his attention shifted from skating to Yuuri, a visible change in posture and expression, that made the breath catch in his throat as he immediately skated over.

 

“Are you okay? Do you want to go home?” He chuckled. “No, not at all. I just… do you mind if I’m here?” Victor laughed. “I’ll never mind you being closer to me, Yuuri. Were you watching me?” He chuckled. “Mhm. It was certainly a sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fall before.” Victor practically folded in on himself.

 

“That! That was playing dirty! How was I supposed to concentrate when you do something like that?” “I’m sorry. Did you hurt yourself?” Victor laughed. “Of course not. I know how to fall by now.” Yuuri nodded. “Just wanted to make sure.” “So _kind_ of you, Yuuri. Have any tips for me?”

 

He took a step back. “Tips? Me? Hardly.” Victor laughed.  “Your steps and spins are better than mine. I’d appreciate any comments you have.” He bit his lip. “Then… on your combination spins, try relaxing your arms a little. You’ll get a more… natural feel, I suppose?”

 

Victor grinned. “Let’s give it a try.” He pushed away, backwards to gain speed and launched into a spin. Yuuri was impressed to say the least. He was well-aware that his suggestion had been poorly worded at best, yet Victor’s spin was… better for it. If he tried the same thing with music, the difference would be amazing.

 

He clapped his hands when Victor came back, greeting him with a smile. “That was great!” Victor practically preened. “Anything else?” Yuuri chuckled awkwardly. “Ah, not much I can tell the reigning and about-to-be-again World Champion.” Victor shrugged. “Your skating… you move like you’re the one who dictates the music, like the music follows your movements not the other way around. I can’t do that.”

 

Yuuri blushed at the praise – for once, he didn’t feel the need to deny it, to reject the praise. It just… felt nice. He sighed. “Did I say something wrong again?” Yuuri chuckled. “Ah, no, nothing like that. I just… I miss being on the ice. I haven’t not skated this long since I was like twelve.” Victor nodded.

 

“I know what you mean. Hm… come here for a second.” He obediently followed Victor to the gate and watched as the man stepped off the ice. “What is it?” Hands settled on his shoulders and squeezed. “Do you trust me, Yuuri?” He blinked up at the older man.

 

What a stupid question. “Of course.”

 

A moment later, familiar arms scooped him up, one across his back, one under his knees and he was hoisted up. Reflexively clutching to Victor’s shoulders, he only managed to relax once Victor was already back on the ice, laughing all the while.

 

For a few moments, Yuuri was absolutely terrified of being dropped, or… something. Then he realised how stupid it was to be afraid – he was being held by Victor. The best skater in the world wasn’t about to drop him. More importantly, _his_ Victor wasn’t about to drop him. Relaxing more, he uncurled from Victor’s shoulders as the man skated wide circles with him.

 

“You okay?” Victor asked. Yuuri sighed. “Victor… yeah, I’m fine.” “Good.” He sped up and turned, skating backwards. It was a surreal experience, definitely. Still, he could feel the cold from the ice radiate up and Victor’s body-heat against his left side…

 

He shifted slightly. “Have you ever skated like this?” Victor asked, his voice a little lower. “Not at all. It’s… odd.” “Is that bad?” He sighed, fingers trailing over Victor’s shoulder. “It’s… not, really. Just different. Thank you, Victor. I… appreciate it. Really.”

 

Victor’s hands on him tightened. “I’m glad. Ready for a jump?” “What?” Before he could protest, Victor sped up and jumped up – a harmless flip that made him clutch tighter to Victor. “Oh sorry, too much?” The man asked a moment later. “Yeah, sorry. I feel a little… helpless.”

 

“Sorry. I’ll stick to circles then.” They skated in silence for a few minutes, before Victor spoke again. “So… what exactly did you tell them about… me?” “Hm?” “Uh, well, you said you told them how I am… in bed?” Yuuri chuckled.

 

“I was just joking. I told them how wonderful you are, that’s all.” Victor skated back to the gate and gently set him down. “Is that… so?” Blushing under Victor’s gaze, he nodded. “Yuuri…” Victor enveloped him in a tight hug, resting his head on his shoulder. “You’re really something else. I’m almost done, okay? Shall we go home?”

 

Yuuri nearly swooned when Victor referred to his family’s onsen as ‘home’. He was almost floating while he watched Victor go through the last few steps of his practice before stepping off the ice and doing a few more stretches.

 

He was still nearly floating when he ordered another cab for them and even when they rode back together. He only came back to himself when Victor casually helped him back to his room, supporting his weak leg with relative ease.

 

Yuuri sat on his bed, his eyes never once leaving Victor, who paused in the doorway. “Come sit with me?” He offered, pleased when Victor happily complied, sitting down next to him, a mere few inches away.

 

“Did you like… my routine?” Victor asked, his voice oddly cautious. “Of course I did. I can’t believe you did that for… me.” Victor chuckled. “So what does it feel like to have a multiple-record-breaking performance dedicated to you?”

 

Hr chuckled, shifting towards Victor a little. His heart was back to racing, his hands a little clammy as he looked at the other man. He’d kissed him earlier, entirely spontaneously, without so much as considering whether or not Victor even wanted that, whether he minded it in front of people.

 

Yuuri… wanted to kiss him again, desperately so. In the privacy of his room, he suddenly found himself a little less confident, a little less… forward. Victor tilted his head, still waiting for an answer and Yuuri bit his lip, trying to think of something to say.

 

“I… it’s…” He broke off, unable to put his feelings into words. Instead he found himself leaning forwards after all, balancing on Victor’s knee as he pressed their lips together again. Victor groaned against his lips instantly, pliant against his own as he leaned into it a little more.

 

It only took a few moments for one of them – Yuuri wasn’t sure who – to deepen it, and he immediately found himself exploring his partner’s mouth with his tongue, drawing all sorts of quiet moans from him in the process.

 

They somehow ended up stretched out on Yuuri’s bed, him leaning over Victor, half-propped up on his arms as they kissed each other senseless. When he eventually drew back, his head was spinning – seeing Victor looking quite so… debauched under him, lips parted and swollen, didn’t help the matter any.

 

“Sorry.” He said before he could forget himself again. “Uhm, yeah okay… why? Do you not want to?” Victor asked, his voice rough. “No, I should have asked.” “Asked what?” “If you even wanted to. Before, in the rink and now as well. I’m sorry.”

 

The smile Victor gave him nearly made his heart stop as the older man reached up and framed his face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to ask, not ever. Anything you want, anytime, anywhere.” “Oh.” Yuuri breathed in lieu of an actual response.

 

Victor swallowed, his fingers clenching on Yuuri’s skin. “More? If you want it?” Yuuri leaned in easily, sealing their lips together again. Victor’s resounding moan was a little louder than before and Yuuri found himself pressing his body against Victor’s. The resulting friction felt wonderful, though not quite as wonderful as when Victor pulled away from the kiss and yanked Yuuri’s face against his neck.

 

He practically threw away his glasses so that he’d have an easier time kissing and biting his way down the pale column of skin until his chin caught on Victor’s shirt. He had to pull away, eventually, leaning up and sitting back. Without his glasses, everything was a little fuzzy… though not so fuzzy that he couldn’t make out just how… undone Victor looked.

 

Not a single one of his fantasies could come even close to it and all he’d done was kiss the man. Yuuri was awed to say the least, and more than a little turned on. A quick shift upwards easily showed that Victor was too, even more so than him.

 

He watched in rapt fascination as Victor flushed pink and shivered at the intimate contact. Yuuri blindly grasped for his glasses and put them back on before shifting to the side and giving Victor some room. The other man looked dazed, flushed and a little out of breath.

 

Yuuri wanted a poster of him looking like that. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, hoping the other man wouldn’t mind the comment. When Victor rolled to his side, pressing them together once again, he decided he probably didn’t.

 

“Yuuri...” Victor mumbled against his throat, his hands languidly running up and down Yuuri’s shoulders and arms. “Mhm?” “God, are you going to do that every time I skate five quads?” He chuckled. “Could be? Not sure.” He teased back. “Victor growled, low in his throat. “So what happens if I do more than five quads? Six? Seven?”

 

He giggled lightly. “You’re amazing but even you can’t do that. In fact you shouldn’t try. You’ll get hurt and then we’ll both be miserable.” “Are you? Miserable, I mean?” Yuuri sighed. “Well… I was. I’m not so much now.”

 

“Then how are you feeling?” “Like I want to rip your clothes off with my teeth.” He answered, his brain deciding to speak without filter… he really ought to get used to that by now, it WAS happening an awful lot. Victor moaned quietly, his hips thrusting forwards against Yuuri. “You’re really not making this easy for me.”

 

“What do you mean?” “Mhhhh, I came here hoping you’d forgive me enough to maybe be my friend. Then you said that I could still… that you were still interested. And now I’m just desperately trying not to take advantage of you.”

 

“Advantage…?” “Yuuri, I said I wanted to prove myself worthy to you. Before I’ve done that… I just want to do it right.” “So you don’t want me to…?” “No, don’t misunderstand. I do, I want you. It’s just… that challenge is important to me.”

 

Yuuri gently pressed a hand to Victor’s back. “That’s fine. If that’s what you want.” Victor practically purred. “I want YOU, Yuuri. I fully plan on having my way too, if you’ll have me.” “Victor… I’ve had posters of you since I was like twelve. Of course I want you too.” An amused glint entered the older man’s eyes.

 

“Can I see?” Yuuri groaned. “No. Definitely not.” Victor pouted, an adorable expression. “Please? I really want to see!” Yuuri squinted. “I suppose I COULD show you… or I could kiss you again. Your choi-” Victor’s lips cut him off before he could even finish his teasing offer. Victor rolled them until Yuuri was on his back, the taller man half-draped over him, lips and tongue eagerly moving together.

 

They kissed for a long time, alternating between fast, hard kisses and slow languid ones. It was… wonderful. Eventually, Victor drew back, his expression almost smug. “You like kissing, Yuuri?” He groaned quietly. “If it’s you, of course I do.” It was the perfect thing to say if the blush that joined Victor’s smile was anything to go by.

 

“Yuuri?” “Mhm?” “I still want to see those posters.”

 

Yuuri cursed.


	14. Chapter 14

Victor stayed for four days, four wonderful days, before their time was interrupted and Yuuri had to face the fact that ‘the rest of the world’ was something that existed. The way Victor fit in with his family stunned Yuuri every time he saw it. Victor helped in the kitchen. Went to buy his sister smokes when she asked – only for both Yuuri and his mother to scold her later, because Victor was NOT an errand boy.

 

He watched football with Yuuri’s father despite his obvious disinterest. He posed for photos with the other guests of the onsen. At night, he trained at the Ice Castle rink. He signed anything the triplets put under his nose and posed for so many pictures with Yuuko, Nishigori started to get territorial.

 

Victor always looked for him as well – during training, he’d pause just to check Yuuri was still watching. When they were simply sitting in the family dining room, he’d turn just to wink at him and even if they were swarmed by the fans that occasionally came by the onsen, Victor always made sure to know where he was.

 

In private, they kissed. A lot. They didn’t go further than that, Yuuri respecting Victor’s request to wait until after that challenge was done, and Victor seemingly perfectly happy to torture himself that way. Victor, he found, was both a spectacular kisser and ridiculously sensitive. He practically came apart every time Yuuri kissed or nibbled down his throat, not to mention the one time he backed the older man into a wall after a few too many cups of sake, Victor’s legs nearly gave out.

 

It made Yuuri feel like he really affected the man, like somehow little Yuuri from Hasetsu could really do that to Victor Nikiforov. The one day Yuuri couldn’t go to the rink with him because of a doctor check-up, Victor sent him thirteen messages in the span of an hour.

 

In short, Yuuri had never felt so… loved. It almost scared him how good it felt, how eager he was to relish in it. It made the eventual reminder that their arrangement wasn’t permanent all the harsher. This reminder came in the form of one very angry Russian teenager.

 

Yuri Plisetsky didn’t so much as knock after his arrival at Yu-topia. As Yuuri found out later, he simply demanded to be shown to Victor’s room. Mari gave him directions to Yuuri’s room instead, because absolutely nobody was really under the impression that Victor stayed in his own room anymore.

 

Yuuri was still mostly asleep, Victor draped against his side, snoring softly, when the door slammed open and a kid he’d only met twice strolled in – Russian skater Yuri Plisetsky. Victor woke up slowly, despite the sudden intrusion, even as Yuuri scrambled up and away.

 

“You!” The blonde hissed and pointed at Victor. “Me? Hello Yura...” “Yes, you! Do you have ANY idea what you’re doing?” Victor blinked awake more. “Well I WAS sleeping. Why are you here?” “To bring you back home obviously, old man. Worlds are coming up. You can play hook-up after.”

 

Victor huffed. “I’m not. Besides, I can train here as well as at home.” The teen simply growled in response. “Yakov sent me here to fetch you, so you’re coming, even if I have to drag you.” Yuuri’s arms tightened reflexively around Victor. Though he had pulled back, he hadn’t actually relinquished his hold on the other any.

 

The skater leaned against him, half-turning to the other Yuri. “I don’t see how you can drag me anywhere, Yura. By the way, you remember Yuuri right?” The kid sneered in his direction. “Of course I do. Why are you in his bed?”

 

Victor finally pulled away, getting off the bed. “Well, you see, sometimes when two adults like each other very much...” The teen grimaced and pretended to retch. “Spare me. Besides, I’m sure even the pig has better taste than YOU.”

 

Yuuri carefully set his cast-covered leg down and stood as well. He didn’t miss the way the third man studied his ankle when he did so, and for a moment, he felt self-conscious. Then he remembered that the kid had just randomly come into HIS room and there was no reason to feel that way. Instead, he pulled open his wardrobe and mutely pulled out a shirt.

 

“I have a poster collection that says I don’t.” He eventually remarked as he stripped off his shirt. The younger Russian squawked, Yuuri noted with some delight as he pulled on his new shirt. “Just you wait till you see how _pathetic_ this guy is, you’ll get over your hero-worship soon enough.”

 

Yuuri met Victor’s gaze, surprised when the other man looked guarded rather than amused like Yuuri felt. He frowned briefly. “I can’t think of a single thing that would put me off him, to be honest.” Victor positively beamed at his words, while his namesake pretended to throw up.

 

“You should have seen him when you weren’t talking to him. He was completely useless. I saw him put his skates on the wrong foot FOUR TIMES.” Yuuri bit his lip to hide his smile. “Why don’t we all have breakfast? We can chat about all of this then, yeah?”

 

Both Russians agreed and soon all three were sat in the dining room, a bowl of katsudon each. Yuuri’s mother had started making it as soon as she’d heard from Mari that yet another ‘handsome foreigner’ had appeared in search of Yuuri. He was a little concerned that his mother’s default reaction to this was cooking, but he wasn’t exactly surprised by it either. Happily chomping down on his food, Yuuri watched the two Russians. They too, were eating, however mostly they were arguing back and forth in Russian.

  
He didn’t understand a word of it, not past the point where the younger of the pair occasionally gestured at him and Victor shot him apologetic looks every now and again. Mostly, he focused on the sound of the language between the two. He’d heard Victor speak it in interviews, had heard other people speak it… but something about Victor speaking it in front of him made him wish he knew it too.

 

Not because he wanted to listen in, simply because he thought it would be nice to be able to speak to Victor in his own language. The other two men in the room spent so much time arguing that when they eventually addressed him directly, Yuuri was too spaced out to even notice.

 

“Oy! Pig!” Yuri called, snapping Yuuri from his thoughts. “Sorry.” He apologised awkwardly. “Old man says he needs to talk to you. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t do anything gross.” Yuuri blinked in confusion as the kid walked out, leaving him with Victor.

 

“I’m sorry about Yura. He’s… difficult, as you know.” “It’s fine. Did you two come up with a plan?” Victor’s expression darkened at his question. “Not really. Yura wants me to go back. I want to stay.” He smiled fondly at the other. “You have to go back! You knew that when you came.”

 

Victor huffed. “Well yes, eventually! Not so soon.” “Don’t you miss Makkachin?” A flicker of guilt crossed Victor’s features. “I do, but… you’re injured. I don’t… want to leave you.” On impulse, Yuuri reached for Victor’s hand and took it in his own. “And I don’t want you to leave. Still, you have things to do and places to be. It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

 

He squeezed Victor’s fingers and the man returned the gesture. “I feel like… if I leave, somehow, it’ll be over. Like a… like a spell.” Yuuri looked at their entwined fingers. “I know what you mean. It won’t though. I mean, if that’s what you want…” Victor’s fingers tightened almost to the point of pain.

 

“I want you, Katsuki Yuuri. Nothing about that has changed… except maybe for how MUCH I want you.” He felt himself blush. “I… that’s good. I think. Still, you need to go home and train for Worlds properly. You haven’t worn your own skates in almost a week and it’s only a few more weeks until the actual competition.”

 

“If I go home, I won’t be able to kiss you.” Yuuri sighed. “I’m well-aware. Still, you have to go.” Victor frowned. “You once said… that you don’t mind me being clingy.” “I don’t. Honestly, I still have a hard time believing that you want to be here at all. So, it’s not that. It’s just… the world doesn’t stop because I fell and got hurt.”

 

Victor nodded. “I know that you’re right… it’s just…” Their fingers squeezed at the same time. “I know. I know exactly what you mean.” Victor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I… can we talk? Later? I’ll go and call Yakov.” “Of course. I think I’ll go lay down for now.”

 

The other skater nodded and watched him leave – Yuuri didn’t even glance back as he made his way to his bed. Of course Victor was leaving, he’d known that… but he didn’t want to be alone again, not one bit. On a whim, he pulled out those posters of Victor he’d torn down and set about putting them back up.

 

It was a little awkward with his cast, but he managed it in the end – putting each picture back where it belonged, covering the discoloured patches felt like he was fixing something. He couldn’t fix himself, but he could do that, at least.

 

With that taken care of, he laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Victor would leave, and he would be alone. They would still text, and call and such…but Victor would go. Glancing down at his cast, awkwardly sticking out from under the blanket, he cursed it. It would come off soon enough but… not nearly soon enough.


	15. Chapter 15

When Victor stepped into his room an hour later, Yuuri could tell at a glance that something was on his mind and it made his heart skip a beat with worry. “What’s wrong?” Victor ran a hand through his hair and sat down in front of Yuuri’s bed. “It’s… nothing serious. I just… I’d like to suggest something. Will you hear me out?” He nodded – of course he would.

 

“Yuuri… the last few days here have been some of the best of my life. I don’t want to go back home to a cold apartment and text messages at odd hours. I brought this up before, and you rejected it, but won’t you consider coming with me for physical therapy? You can stay with me. St. Petersburg has one of the best medical centres in the world. They can do more for you than Fukuoka hospital. They’re specialised.”

 

Victor broke off with a sigh and then shrugged. “You could… you could stay in my apartment, train at my rink when you’re ready. We could go to Worlds together…” He trailed off. Yuuri was… stunned. It wasn’t often Victor was so serious, so earnest. “I couldn’t afford any of that. Probably not even the plane.”

 

The other man waved him off. “I’ll take care of all of that. I literally have more money than I could spend in a lifetime and even if I didn’t, this is your health we’re talking about. Nothing better I could ever pay for, is there?”

 

Mouth already opened to refuse, Yuuri closed it. “There’s… will your coach allow it?” “Yakov said yes. He’ll even arrange the visa and everything.” “I’d have to talk to my parents-” “They were there when I made the call. Yuri translated for them.”

 

“What did they say?” “That they think you should do anything you can to recover as best as possible. Yuuri, your career isn’t over, not if you don’t want it to be. You’re already recovering better than expected.”

 

That much was true – he noticed it when he walked without his crutches now, how much easier and smoother his gait had become. “How much would it cost you? To pay for it all?” He asked, after a while. “Does it matter?”

 

“Yes.” He simply replied. Victor pinched his nose. “A few hundred thousand dollars, give or take.” Yuuri swallowed – more money than his entire family made in a year, more than he had made in his entire skating career so far. Give or take indeed.

 

“That’s… if I was to win a Grand Prix or Worlds, that would almost be enough to cover that?” Victor frowned. “Ah, sure, I suppose. I don’t keep track, exactly, but something like that.” “In other words, if I do this, if I recover well and then win, I could pay you back?”

 

Victor waved him off. “I don’t WANT you to pay me back, Yuuri.” “No, Victor, either I pay you back if I win, or I don’t do this at all.” Something like challenge entered the Russian’s eyes. “You’d be competing against me. I’d be skating against you to make sure you won’t get to pay me back.”

 

Yuuri found himself smiling, suddenly. “Well, you DID say my steps are better than yours. Also, I have a secret weapon if I need to cheat.” The way Victor titled his head in confusion was absolutely adorable. He crooked his finger at him and grinned when Victor shuffled a little closer, until he was in touching distance.

 

He reached out and yanked Victor closer, until he could whisper in his ear. “I know how to make you fall…Vitya.” With that, he released the other man, a little surprised when instead of pulling back, Victor simply collapsed across his knees, face buried against Yuuri’s blanket.

 

He cursed – Yuuri knew what Russian cursing sounded like now – and then just laughed quietly. “You’d sabotage my skating?” Yuuri chuckled softly and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well… not unless I had to.” Victor turned to smile at him.

 

“That’s… not at all reassuring.” “Did you tell Yuri you fell?” “Of course not. He’d just call me a gross old man again.” “He really is… rude to you.” Victor shrugged and finally sat up again, elbows on Yuuri’s bed.

 

“He never really liked me or looked up to me that much. It bothers him that most other skaters seem to. He’s actually… okay, he’ll kill me for saying this but he’s your fan.” Yuuri barked out a harsh laugh. “MY fan? He told me to retire.”

 

“Yuri is… volatile. He didn’t mean it. He was actually worried when you got injured. For what it’s worth, he was worried you’d gotten injured because of how rude he was to you. When I told him it was because of how rude I was to you, he threatened to strangle me with the laces of my skates.”

 

He looked at the other man in mute horror. “That’s…” “I know!” “Victor, it wasn’t your fault. Or his.” A soft smile graced Victor’s lips. “Yeah, I know. It’s taken a bit to really accept it, but I know. So… will you come with me to St. Petersburg?”

 

Yuuri sighed – did he have a choice? He’d recover better with Victor’s experts. He’d also… be with Victor. He didn’t like what it said that those two things were almost equal in his mind.

 

“I’ll have to clear it with my doctors here. How long does it take to get a visa?” Victor’s smile was without a doubt the most beautiful expression he had ever seen on any human being. It straight up took his breath away and left his heart aching – aching to be closer, to bask in the sheer wonder that was Victor.

 

As if of their own volition, his fingers snuck out to brush across the man’s cheek-bone, cupping his cheek. Victor leaned into the touch and Yuuri wondered if he was dreaming. “Come here.” He ordered, and Victor had scrambled up and into his lap before his own words had even registered.

 

“So much better than my posters.” He muttered, a little embarrassed when Victor laughed. “You put them back up? I wonder why?” “Well, I was going to miss you.” His answer seemed to delight Victor if the resulting hug was anything to go by. Victor was… warm.

 

Arms wrapped low around his back, he held Victor in place when the other leaned back a little, something other than just joy entering his eyes. “Uh, say, Yuuri?” “Hm?” “Can I ask you something personal?” “Of course.”

 

Victor licked his lips, a faint pink flush on his skin. “You… in bed, what do you…” Yuuri snorted in disbelief. “Are you… are you seriously asking me what I like in bed right now?” The other skater groaned and shifted a little on his lap. “But Yuuuuri… I didn’t get the chance to ask the last time I sat on your lap.”

 

Last time…? “The tub.” “Yes, the tub. I… should I not have asked? Was it inappropriate?” Yuuri’s lips twitched into a smirk, a cocktail of shock, happiness and disbelief still coursing through him. He found it much easier this time, to fall into that persona that Victor liked so much from him.

 

“Not as inappropriate as the things I’d like to do to you in bed.” Victor’s mouth falling open in shock and the helpless thrust his hips gave made the embarrassment he felt well-worth it. His arms opened a little, hands on Victor’s hips, firmly holding him in place.

 

“What, uh, what things are those?” Victor’s voice wasn’t quite steady any more. “How is that challenge of yours going?” He asked instead of answering the question. Victor cursed, more loudly this time. “No, that’s right, you’re right. I have to earn it. God, Yuuri... the things you do to me…”

 

On a whim, Yuuri shifted his hands forward, until his thumbs were digging into the soft flesh right above Victor’s hip bones. “No, Vitya… the things we are going to do together, eventually.”

 

Yuuri didn’t put up so much as a token protest when Victor took his mouth in a deep kiss, only groaned in response to the soft bites Victor placed along his bottom lip. He returned the gesture, a little too eager, a little too hard and pulled back when Victor winced a little, breath coming in hard gasps.

 

“Sorry…” He mumbled, regret dampening his arousal as he looked at Victor’s lip, a little swollen as it was. “Mh, no need. I liked it. Sorry for just, uh…” Victor’s accent was a little heavier than normal and it was all he could do to control himself. “I liked it.” Victor paused, then gave him a delighted smile even as he gingerly climbed off the bed.

 

“Want some more katsudon since you won’t get to have it for a while?” Victor offered.

 

Just like that, things had changed… again. He wouldn’t be alone after all, he’d be with Victor, the wonderful, insane man that somehow still thought he had something to prove to Yuuri. He really would have to find out what in the world that was about sometime soon.

 

He’d go to Russia. He’d heal, he’d train and then… he’d skate again. With Victor by his side. It was all he ever wanted… if not in the way he wanted it. That was okay, would be okay, had to be okay.

 

“I would love that.” He softly replied, not talking about the katsudon at all.

 

Victor brought him some anyway.


	16. Chapter 16

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Yakov got him his visa, Victor got him his flights. Russian Yuri insisted on staying and going back with them – he had brought Victor’s skates, freeing him from having to use practice ones.

 

So, the Hasetsu Ice Rink had a new daily spectacle – two bickering Russians skating, and one Japanese man watching and occasionally telling either of them off for slacking off. At first, he’d felt self-conscious when he’d admonished Victor, but the man had been almost… grateful for it.

 

When he’d first admonished Yuri Plisetsky, he’d half expected to be pushed down the stairs that evening… instead, Yuri had hissed at him that if he was going to complain he might as well give constructive comments… and just like that, Yuuri was occasionally telling two world-class skaters, objectively better than him even when he was healthy, what to do on the ice.

 

It was… fun.

 

Not as much fun as skating was, but fun anyway.

 

When, a few days before their trip to Russia, Yuuri got his cast off and was instead instructed to walk on crutches and with a stiff support-boot that he at least could take off when he wasn’t walking, it felt a little like getting his freedom back. He got his cast off a full four days earlier than scheduled and every one of them felt as good as a gold medal.

 

Yuuri Katsuki had hope again, hope and determination.

 

The latter, at least, nearly faltered in the face of his journey to Russia. Phichit who had shipped him most of his things already, had made him tell the story no less than four times and had demanded selfies with both of Yuuri’s Russian guests before he believed it. Yuuri had taken the photos and still wasn’t sure he himself properly believed it, really.

 

He learned a lot about the other Yuri – for all that he was abrasive and rude, he listened when Yuuri gave him skating advice and he insisted on carrying things for him when he happened upon him and his crutches. Sure, he complained every step of the way, but in his own way, he was looking out for Yuuri as much as Victor was.

 

Victor – the man had been banned from Yuuri’s bed following a particularly unfortunate kicking incident at night-time that had left Yuuri in tears of pain because Victor had caught his ankle awkwardly.

 

Yuuri missed him more than was justifiable given that if he spoke loudly enough, Victor could hear him from his own bed down the hall.

 

The actual trip though, was much worse than the events leading up to it. They took a cab to the airport after many tearful goodbyes from his family and friends… only for Yuuri to discover that Victor had bought them first class plane tickets because ‘of course Yuuri needed the space what with his leg and such’.

 

It had taken six glasses of champagne for him to no longer feel like he didn’t belong in first class.

 

He slept off his hangover during their layover in Amsterdam and realised drinking at the banquet should have taught him better than to touch champagne. He vaguely remembered giving Victor a lap-dance, under the incessant complaints of his namesake and the delighted laughter of the older of the two Russians.

 

If he hadn’t felt so miserable, he’d have been humiliated and he honestly wasn’t sure which would feel better – a hangover or humiliation? The last leg of the journey went… better. Yuuri refused all alcohol he was offered and instead stared out the window. Victor was asleep on his shoulder in minutes and Yuuri learned something else – when sleeping on planes, Victor Nikiforov snored.

 

Loudly.

 

In his ear.

 

By the time they touched down in St. Petersburg, Yuuri felt like a wilted, trampled flower. Under normal circumstances he’d have never deigned to use a wheelchair, but when the airline provided one for him in lieu of the crutches they put into the hold, he just dropped into it with relief and tried to drown out Victor’s excited chattering.

 

For once, he was absolutely sick of it. He still loved having Victor around of course, but by the time their luggage was collected, and they had met up with Yakov, Yuuri was one thoughtless comment away from snapping.

 

Naturally, said comment came from Victor. A little later, after they parted from Yakov and Russian Yuri, in the cab, Victor was still chattering on about the great things in St. Petersburg. He told Yuuri about the stairs to his apartment and suggested proving his strength by carrying him over the doorstep, and Yuuri lost it.

 

He snarled at Victor, telling him that if he wanted to prove anything at all to Yuuri, it might as well be his ability to keep quiet for once. He didn’t miss the look of intense hurt that flashed across the man’s face, but he shut up after that, and at the time that was all Yuuri wanted.

 

Of course, Victor didn't deserve it, and the fact that Yuuri purposely phrased it the way he did, referencing his challenge... it was petty, and Victor neither fighting back nor defending himself made it a thousand times worse.

 

They spent the cab ride in silence, all the way until Victor’s apartment building. The cabbie helped Victor carry up the many, many suitcases while Yuuri waited by the entrance, and he walked up the single flight of stairs all by himself. By the time Victor introduced him to Makkachin, Yuuri deeply regretted how rude he had been, but Victor avoided all four of his attempts to apologise… and so Yuuri found himself asleep alone in Victor’s huge bed not long after.

 

He felt miserable.


	17. Chapter 17

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed was, of course, always a bit disorienting, but that particular morning was a lot worse than usual. For one, the events of the previous day came crashing down on him as soon as he opened his eyes. More worryingly, he found himself in the middle of a bed so huge he could stretch out all four limbs and not find the edges, and so crawling around until he found his glasses on a bedside table involved more actual crawling than he would have expected.

 

That done with, he got up and stumbled to the bathroom – Victor had shown him the night before, quietly, barely saying a word. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth with the toothbrush that Victor had already unpacked for him, and stumbled towards the kitchen, where he found the owner of the flat and his dog… asleep on a too-small couch.

 

He cursed softly and hobbled closer. Victor’s neck was bent at an odd angle, a small blanket draped over his middle, Makkachin asleep on his legs. He gently brushed his fingers over Victor’s forehead, brushing aside his messy bangs, the same way he’d done many times in Hasetsu.

 

Like then, Victor woke up easily enough, blinking awake. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. “Victor, I-” “Would you like coffee?” The other man interrupted him, so cheerfully it was obviously fake. Makkachin who had jumped off when Victor woke, ambled into the kitchen on her own. “Victor, please, can we just-”

 

He broke off when hurt once again flashed over Victor’s face. “Alright, fine then.” Victor mumbled and sat up, making space for Yuuri on the couch. He took a deep breath as he sat. “I’m sorry. Really sorry, for how I was during the cab ride. You didn’t deserve it, I was just in a bad mood and I took it out on you. You were excited and I… ruined that. I’m really sorry.”

 

For a moment, Victor’s face remained emotionless, then something like relief seared through the other. “I-I’m sorry too. I could tell you weren’t doing well so I was trying to cheer you up by getting you excited for the city and all that… I should have just asked what you needed.” “Oh, so that’s what it was.”

 

Yuuri felt more stupid than ever. “You know, you didn’t have to sleep on the couch. This is YOUR home.” Victor snorted. “Well, it was clear you didn’t want me there, so…” Yuuri turned away from him. “I was… I tried to apologise last night too. You, kind of, didn’t listen?”

 

“Oh. I… oh.” Victor stammered. “I thought you were trying to… I thought you wanted to argue with me and I was worried about what I might say because I was tired too.” On instinct, Yuuri reached for Victor’s hand. “Looks like we both messed it up a bit, huh?” He asked the older man.

 

“I’ll say. So, is everything… okay?”

 

Yuuri wrinkled his nose. “It will be… once you make me coffee?” Victor laughed and just like that, everything WAS okay. They had breakfast together before Victor took Yuuri to what was apparently Makkachin’s third-favourite park.

 

Dreary weather aside, it really was a nice park, and they found themselves sitting on a bench together, watching Makkachin play with some other dogs a few steps away. “Your first appointment with the new therapists is one week from now. Yakov texted this morning.” “Oh, I see. Thank you… for all of that.”

 

“It’s fine. I look forward to seeing you recover. Until then… do you want to come to practices with me? It’s not as private as in Hasetsu, but if you’d like…” Victor trailed off. “In a few days, maybe? For now I’d like to… rest, I think.”

 

Victor nodded eagerly. “What, other than skating do you do for fun?” He chuckled lightly. “Ballet. I’ve been doing it longer than I’ve been skating.” “Really? Wow! Do you… dance en pointe?” Yuuri gave Victor a long look. “…Sure. Minako taught me when I was younger. Why?” “Just curious.”

 

The faint blush on his cheeks said otherwise. “I suppose you won’t be able to do ballet for a while yet… what about pole dancing?” “I…what?” Yuuri was baffled.

 

“Well, I know you know your stuff… it shouldn’t impact your ankle so much, right? We could find you a class?” “Victor… how do you even know…” He trailed off, torn between curiosity and mortification. The other man looked at him in innocent confusion. “The banquet? You danced on a pole with Chris.” “I did NOT.” “Didn’t I… tell you that?”

 

“No! You, you said I danced with him! Nothing else!” “Ah, well then. So, how about it?” He groaned quietly. “I’ll see what the doctors say. If they allow it, maybe. I’d like to stay active if I can and I never liked the gym. Pole was… I only did it to build up my core strength.”

 

Victor chuckled and practically leered at him. “Yes, I can imagine. Your… core.” Suddenly self-conscious, Yuuri crossed his arms over his middle and slid a little lower on the bench. “I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious, Yuuri.” Victor said, voice oddly subdued.

 

“It’s… you didn’t. I just know… I put weight on easily and at home I ate so much katsudon I put on a lot, that’s all. I don’t look as good as I did before. Sorry.” Victor didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pull him closer, until they were leaning against each other completely.

 

“You look just as good with a bit of extra weight. More for me to touch.” Yuuri wanted to feel bad, he really did, but with the sunny smile the other man gave him, he couldn’t bring himself to mind all that much. “Besides, I know you’ll lose it quickly enough, my little piggy!”

 

In a move he’d never expected himself to make, Yuuri, shook off Victor’s arm and stood, walking away. He left Victor Nikiforov, his first crush and skating inspiration on a bench in Russia in order to very slowly stalk off angrily, ignoring the calls from Victor to wait for him. It didn’t take him long to catch up, even though he had to get Makkachin before walking after him. Curse his ankle.

 

Victor spent the entire walk back to his flat apologising to Yuuri for his comment. Honestly, Yuuri wasn’t even as offended as he pretended… it was more funny than anything. Still, he’d have his revenge.

 

He didn’t look at the other man once, not until they were back inside, and the door was closed behind them. Then, he spun on the heel of his uninjured leg and bodily backed Victor into the dark and heavy wood, yanking him down by the lapels of his coat and into a heated kiss.

 

The other skater met him eagerly, moaning as soon as their mouths made contact, hands cradling Yuuri’s head, tongue eagerly moving against him. Leaning against the door like that, it was a simple matter to grab Victor’s thighs and hoist the man higher, his weight mainly supported by the door rather than Yuuri’s injured ankle.

 

If the guttural noise Victor made when Yuuri moved to suck and bite his way down his throat was anything to go by, he loved what Yuuri was doing to him. Shaky fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, and soon Yuuri found his path lower unobstructed by fabric, placing biting kisses across the other man’s firmly sculpted pectorals.

 

He only stopped when Victor was shamelessly grinding up against him, legs crossed behind Yuuri’s back to support himself a little. Pulling back, Yuuri put on his best – and shaky, definitely shaky – smile as he let Victor down to stand on apparently equally shaky legs.

 

“I’m taking a shower. Don’t forget to feed Makkachin.” He declared and walked off, oddly relieved that he was already limping – aroused as he was, he’d have been limping either way. Yuuri’s shower was a little longer and a little hotter than technically necessary, and by the time he was back in the living room, Victor had changed clothes, fed Makka and put a pizza in the oven for them.

 

The look he gave Yuuri when he stepped out, hair still damp from the shower could have burned a man alive. “Have a nice shower?” He asked, his tone teasing. “Very.” Yuuri responded, a little weary – was Victor angry?

 

They sat on the couch, thighs brushing together. Probably not, Yuuri decided. “Living with you is going to be tough, isn’t it?” The Russian asked, his usual accent lilting. “I’m sorry. Did you not like-” Victor waved him off. “Of course I liked it, god it was so _good_ … I just meant that… holding back will be… tough. I don’t always have the best impulse control.”

 

Yuuri swallowed, his heart beating in his throat as he shifted on the couch to look at Victor properly. “Remind me again why you have to hold back at all?” A soft expression replaced the open hunger in Victor’s eyes. “Yuuuuri! I thought I was the forgetful one here! Did you forget about the challenge you gave me?”

 

He sighed. “Of course not. Are you ever going to tell me more about that?” “Of course! Once I complete it, that is.” Naturally – it couldn’t have been easy, could it? Yuuri frowned. “Victor, this challenge…” A finger on his lips silenced him.

 

“I’ve said it before… the challenge is something I want, need even. I’m grateful that you gave it to me.” Yuuri gulped. “Well then… how is it coming along? Can you tell me that at least?” Victor faltered for a moment, his finger still on Yuuri’s lip as he spoke, a gentle weight there.

 

“I… uh… it’s going… good? I think?” Yuuri stuck the tip of his tongue out and licked the tip of Victor’s finger. The man pulled back as if burned at the exact moment the timer for the pizza went off in the kitchen. Yuuri had never hated kitchen appliances more than at that moment in time.


	18. Chapter 18

Victor scrambled off the couch with a hissed curse and yanked the pizza out – Yuuri wasn’t particularly hungry when the Russian slunk back with the pre-sliced pizza a few minutes later… and going by his expression, Victor wasn’t either.

 

Purely to tease, Yuuri moaned quietly around his first bite of pizza, delighting in the way Victor shivered next to him, clutching his own pizza. “So, uh… I’m going to start training at the rink again tomorrow. Is there… do you need anything? Until then? For me to buy or bring…”

 

Yuuri swallowed – he’d be alone in the flat. While Victor skated. Sending a rueful glance to his ankle, safely ensconced in its boot, he shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll do the fitness exercises I’m allowed and maybe walk Makkachin? If that’s okay?”

 

The older skater beamed. “Yuuri! Of course it’s okay! She would love that, I think. Are you sure you’ll be okay here? I mean, I have books but they’re in Russian and the TV…” The man trailed off, looking around as is if to find things for Yuuri to do.

  
It was cute.

 

“Victor, it’s fine. I have my laptop, my phone… I’ll keep myself busy until you get back.” The Russian made a strangled sound around his pizza and oh, Yuuri only just realised what he’d made that sound like… he decided to roll with it.

 

“What is it?” He asked, innocently blinking at Victor. The other man stared silently for a moment, then chuckled softly. “No, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep yourself… entertained. Feel free to send pictures!” And just like that, it was Yuuri that was blushing, Yuuri that was flustered – he wasn’t about to just leave it like that.

 

Taking another bite from his pizza, he nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose I could do that. Pictures… video maybe? I guess I could send them to you while you train?” The pink blush on Victor’s cheeks revealed quite well what he thought of that… not that Yuuri would ever be so bold, of course. They ate their pizza in silence, content in their state of mutual… well, pining.

 

Yuuri couldn’t WAIT for the ‘challenge’ to be over… he was staying in the flat of his idol, his beloved Victor, they were even sleeping in the same bed… and yet he wasn’t allowed to have what he fantasized about since he was a teenager.

 

He sighed – it was going to be a long few months at this rate.


	19. Chapter 19

The first day alone with Makkachin, Yuuri spent carefully exploring the apartment. He wasn’t proud of it per se, but he was in the home of a man he’d admired forever, so really… he had to go peeking into the medicine cabinet.

 

Disappointingly, it looked exactly like his own, except with Russian labels. Bandages, creams, balms, stuff for pulled muscles, bruises… he even recognised several brands. Since the bathroom proved boring (unless you counted the sheer AMOUNT of hair product Victor owned, sitting right next to Yuuri’s 2-in-1 shampoo-conditioner), he snooped on to the kitchen.

 

Victor had a lovely, well-stocked kitchen that didn’t look like he used it all that much… he had all the typical spices and such, but nothing really stood out. No juicy secrets there – though Yuuri noticed with amusement, that Victor had no less than three different kinds of hot sauce.

 

The living room proved more interesting – Yuuri snooped through books, magazines, even a photo album. There was only the one, and it was filled with pictures of Makkachin… and Victor on various podiums. As far as reading material went, he was surprised to find that his… well, whatever they were to each other, was apparently fond of romance novels – the kind with a dramatic lover’s kiss on the cover. Yuuri stopped counting at six different ones.

 

There were also sports magazines (mostly unsurprising), interior decoration magazines (given the look of his flat, also unsurprising) a poodle magazine (the most ‘Victor’ thing in the whole flat), and a car magazine (slightly surprising).

 

Yuuri hesitated a little, his conscience flaring up when he set about snooping through the bedroom. Victor had helped him put his things away by relinquishing one half of one of his closets… Yuuri hadn’t even needed all of that space. Now he pulled open the others, finding branded suits, shirts, slacks, dress pants… well, the man certainly knew how to dress himself well, that much was sure.

 

No maid costumes though, and nothing else that might be considered… saucy. The last place left to look was under the bed. Gigantic as it was, Yuuri wasn’t surprised to find that there were several boxes underneath.

 

One of them caught his eye because he recognised it, beat up as though it was – it was the box of sweets he’d sent Victor so many weeks ago, a reward for his gold. He barely hesitated before pulling it out and opening it carefully.

 

Over half of it was gone – clearly, Victor shared his love for comfort food when he wasn’t feeling well. It made his heart clench slightly when he thought about how it was miscommunication and plain stubbornness that had hurt him in the first place.

 

It wasn’t the sweets that ultimately drew his attention though… it was the several paper rolls next to them, as well as a small shopping bag. Why would Victor keep something else in the box? He wasn’t exactly hard up for space.

 

Yuuri started with the paper, sliding off the elastic that held them closed.

 

He nearly got the shock of a lifetime when he discovered that they were EXACTLY what they looked like… posters.

 

Of him.

 

Victor Nikiforov had three posters of Yuuri Katsuki hidden under his bed like a shameful secret.

It was probably the best moment of Yuuri’s entire LIFE.

 

He hardly even hesitated before diving for a pen and shakily signing all three, before rolling them back up and putting them back… only to realise that, as soon as Victor opened them and looked, he’d KNOW that Yuuri had snooped through his flat.

 

That was… not good. Quietly cursing his impulsiveness, he decided he might as well look into the shopping bag in that box too – he didn’t have anything to lose now, after all. Inside, he found more merchandise – Yuuri Katsuki keychains, Yuuri Katsuki badges and… a small Yuuri Katsuki plushie?

 

He didn’t even know they MADE those. Mentally making a note to check his sponsorship contracts because WHEN had he signed one that covered that, he hastily put the bag back and replaced the box as well as he could.

 

He’d signed the posters though… which, really, just meant that he couldn’t let Victor find out. At least not until he was back in Japan where he could switch his phone off and pretend he wasn’t the sort of creep who dug through someone else’s apartment… and signed fan-merch he clearly wasn't supposed to know about.

 

Ankle aching a bit, he stretched out on the bed. Teenage Yuuri would have been a hyperventilating mess at the thought of Victor knowing who he was… the idea of laying in his bed, inches above actual posters of him that the Russian had bought… well, adult Yuuri was seriously considering devolving into a hyperventilating mess too.

 

Thankfully, he had an hour or so before Victor would be back – just enough time to wipe the part dumb-struck, part awe-struck and part smug expression from his face.

 

Hopefully, anyway.


	20. Chapter 20

His second day alone, Yuuri spent relaxing with Makka. The poodle was lovely and loving, and altogether wonderful. They laid on the bed, the couch, the floor, he tossed her toys, cuddled her, fed her at LEAST twice as many treats as Victor said was allowed… and altogether, he had one of the most calming days he’d had in a long time.

 

Victor cooked dinner for them, a delicious leek soup that didn’t at ALL taste like it should be allowed on a diet plan, but apparently, according to Victor, still was. It was domestic, just like Victor and his family had been together, and Yuuri soaked up the feeling like a sponge.

 

His third day, he spent idly flicking through Russian TV and radio channels, surprised to find nothing but a single international news station in English. By the time Victor came back, Yuuri had learned more about recent world news than he had since graduating high school. Still, Victor made up for it by helping Yuuri make them both a simple stir-fry dish… followed by making out on the couch like teenagers until Yuuri’s leg cramped and forced them to part a little awkwardly. It wasn’t the worst day.

 

That honour went to day 4 when, after spending so much time around Victor, in his home… Yuuri got horny. He hadn’t felt like that for a while, his complex emotions about his injury, his hurt feelings preventing it, but being around Victor… well, he was injured, not dead.

 

Still, Yuuri felt awkward at the idea of jerking himself off alone in Victor’s home. He decided against it.

 

That decision lasted a whole three days – two more than he had expected, actually. When he found himself idly rubbing his half-hard cock through his pants while looking at one of the interior decorating magazines – he’d already looked at everything else, goddammit – he realised he needed to stop thinking about how Victor would look bent over the back of this ugly couch or that designer chair, and needed another shower.

 

A long, hot, indulgent shower.

 

Naturally, in Victor’s luxurious bathroom, there was one big enough for two people, marble tiling and massage shower-head included. Yuuri had no idea how long he spent in it – though he got himself off twice and was still half-hard – when disaster struck.

 

He was fine one moment, and dizzy the next. Out of nowhere, the room seemed to wobble, almost, and he found himself leaning back against the shower wall for support… except the shower wall was half a step back in Victor’s gigantic shower.

 

He slipped and fell, barely catching himself on his wrists and elbows, narrowly avoiding a collision between his head and the wall when he realised two things at once – he’d screamed in shock, and he could hear the distinct noise of FOOTSTEPS running towards the bath.

 

Victor didn’t even hesitate before yanking open the door and stepping in. “Yuuri! What happened? I heard you scream when I came in! Are-are you okay? Did you fall?”

 

Biting down a snarky response because why ELSE would he be laying on the floor of the shower, gasping for breath, he curled to his side with a hiss. His wrist throbbed. “I… I got dizzy. Light-headed.” “Yuuri! Here, come on, let me turn the water off.” Victor did just that, while Yuuri curled in on himself, shame burning in his mind.

 

When he looked up at his host, he came face to face with a gigantic grey towel. “Here, let me help you, okay?” There was no mockery in Victor’s tone, only concern. “I-I’m fine, really.” “You’re NOT fine. You’re recovering from an injury! How long were you in the shower for?” “I… I don’t know?”

 

He let Victor drape the towel over him and sat up, throbbing wrist cradled to his chest. “Is your ankle okay? Any more pain?” “It’s fine. I… landed on my wrist though?” Awkwardly sitting up and balancing with one hand while holding the towel with the other, he stood and wobbled out of the shower, only for Victor to take his wrist the very second he stood on the bathmat.

 

“Let me see!” The other man declared and skilfully, if not gently, examined it. The pain wasn’t bad – probably not even a strain. Small mercies. “We should put something cooling on this. Why don’t you go and sit on the bed and I’ll fetch it?”

 

Nodding meekly, he took a step – just the one, he didn’t get any further before the room took a sudden shift to the left… and he lightly fell against something solid but soft. Victor. He’d stumbled again and Victor had caught him. He could feel the shame burning on his cheeks even as he held on to Victor’s shoulder – how stupid was he that he couldn’t even SHOWER without needing help?

 

He dimly heard Victor say something, ask a question, but he wasn’t listening, torn between the pain in his wrist, his ankle, and the humiliation of it all. Then, the world shifted again, but slower and more deliberately – Victor had…. scooped him up?

 

“What… are you doing?” He mumbled as Victor nudged open the bathroom door with his foot, towel-wrapped Yuuri in his arms. “I’m carrying you to bed. I’m… a little worried. You seem out of it, to be honest.”

 

In another context, Yuuri would have swooned. As it was, he simply nodded and didn’t protest when Victor deposited him on the edge of the bed, staring dumbly after the other man as he hurried back into the bathroom.

 

He heard the noise of several things falling, the Victor was back with half his medicine cabinet, all of which he dumped on the bed next to Yuuri. With a forced smile, he reached for Yuuri’s wrist again. “Now then, let’s have a look at that.”


	21. Chapter 21

Yuuri held still as Victor so, so carefully studied his wrist, turned and twisted it, before applying a paste that felt cool on his skin and wrapping the joint with a soft bandage. His fingers were firm and sure – an athlete, Victor knew just what to do.

 

Still, Yuuri felt humiliated – he was an adult for god’s sake – what sort of adult slipped and fell in the shower… and then needed to be carried to bed? It was absolutely embarrassing and from the way Victor wouldn’t look him in the face as he tightened the last bandage… Yuuri didn’t know what to think.

 

Victor released his wrist and sat next to him on the bed, sighing deeply. A moment later, a forehead fell heavy on his shoulder, Victor bent low in order to rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Victor.” Yuuri offered – he’d inconvenienced him again. After snooping. And jerking off in the man’s shower. Oh god, Yuuri was the WORST.

 

“You’re… sorry?” “I… yes? I was a bother again and I-” A pale hand settled over his mouth, firmly preventing him from speaking. Yuuri squeaked a little as Victor leaned back, surprised by the anger in his face.

 

“Yuuri, I’m not… I was…” The other broke off and winced, pulling his hand back. “I’m sorry. I’m just… so relieved nothing worse happened? And I’m so sorry I left you alone like I did. I shouldn’t have… if you’d gotten hurt I would have never forgiven myself.”

 

“V-Victor, this isn’t your fault… at all.” The other man shrugged. “You… fell in my shower.” “I got dizzy. I was just being stupid. Thank you… thank you for taking such good care of me?” The Russian chuckled. “Anytime. I’m just… Yuuri, can I hold you?”

 

The other man had never asked before, not like that – Yuuri found himself stretching out his arms in invitation before he could even think about the request. It was Victor, of course he could hold him. Finding himself with an armful of Russian, he had to shift a little to not slip off the bed.

 

Victor… was shaking.

 

“I was so, so, so scared, Yuuri. When I heard you shout, I panicked? I just saw all of these horrible things and then you couldn’t walk properly… I’m so glad you’re alright.” He threaded the fingers of his free hand through Victor’s hair.

 

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to. I’m perfectly fine. Honestly, my wrist barely hurts even now. I’m sorry for being an imposition.” He smiled wryly when Victor pulled back, an expression of… something like anger on his face.

“Yuuri. Let me make something perfectly clear here.” He nodded dumbly, while the Russian took a deep breath. “I absolutely LOVE that you’re here. That you’re… letting me take care of you. That you trust me enough to be around me when you’re hurt. I will happily rub ointment on every single bruise you get when you’re back on the ice. Do NOT even for a moment think you are an imposition of any kind, okay?”

 

He squeaked something like an agreement, his heart constricting at the forceful words.

 

“Say it, Yuuri, say the words.” “Words…?” “That you’re not an imposition and that I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Suppressing a whimper and well-aware that his face was scarlet, he averted his gaze to his bandaged wrist. Victor was really something special. “I’m… not an imposition. You like having me.” “Exactly.” The smug tone in Victor’s voice soothed the storm of feelings in him somewhat. Still, he found himself reaching for the other again, pulling him into another hug.

 

Victor hummed quietly against his shoulder, practically melting against Yuuri. “How do you feel?” The older man eventually asked. “I feel… I don’t know? Embarrassed, mostly.” “Hungry?” “I, uh, what?”

  
“Are you hungry, Yuuri?” Pulling back a little, he considered the question. “A little?” “Perfect. I’m going to cook, then, and you are going to lie in bed and relax until the food is ready.” Victor declared, leaving no room for argument. Unfortunately, Yuuri wanted to argue.

 

“Can I at least come to the kitchen with you? I’ve been… resting too much.” Something like understanding flashed through Victor’s eyes. “Why not. Come, I’ll put the blanket on the couch.”


	22. Chapter 22

Watching Victor Nikiforov, international heartthrob and Yuuri’s personal inspiration make pancakes in his home was… it was surreal. Yuuri sat on his couch, bundled in a too big blanket and with at least one too many pillows behind him and watched.

 

No longer quite so humiliated, he could appreciate the sight before him now. He’d seen it before – Victor was remarkably uncooperative when it came to sharing chores – but it was the first time he was truly… appreciating the sight.

 

“Victor?” “Hm?” “Why pancakes? It’s dinner.” “Not pancakes, blini. They’re… not sweet. You’ll like them.” Yuuri believed him. So far, Victor’s guesses what Yuuri liked hadn’t been far off, after all. “Do you think I’ll be able to make my appointment tomorrow?” He asked, out of the blue.

 

“I don’t see why not. I have a rest day tomorrow, so I can accompany you there. They speak English, but if you need a translator, I’d be happy to-” “NO!” He interrupted, startling the other. “I just! I mean, there’s no need. For you to trouble yourself on my behalf, I mean.”

 

Victor turned with a smile. “Do I need to remind you? It’s no trouble.” Blushing, Yuuri sank lower in his pile of blankets. “Well, yes, but… I just…” “No buts and no justs. Your recovery is important, and I’ll make sure you get the best care possible.”

 

He didn’t doubt that for a moment, believed it with every fibre of his being.

 

“Is that part of… your challenge?” He couldn’t help but ask, his heart sinking when Victor froze for a moment. Eventually, the Russian turned away from the stove again. “Well, I suppose it is. Not explicitly, but it’s definitely, very much part of it.”

 

“So… I made you? Take care of me I mean.”

 

Casually flicking off the stove, Victor walked over and rested his elbows on the back of the couch next to Yuuri. “You didn’t make me do anything, Yuuri, not like that. This is all… I want this, all of it.” He frowned for a moment. “Not… not you being hurt, of course, but caring for you. Just… stop worrying about the challenge?”

 

Yuuri huffed. “Easier said than done. You won’t tell me more about it and yet insist you have to meet it because I gave it to you?” A wistful smile crossed Victor’s face. “That’s about right. I can’t tell you until I’ve fulfilled it.”

 

He took a deep breath. “It’s just… it’s all a lot, Vitya. The challenge, my injuries, moving to Russia so suddenly, you… it’s just, a lot.” Victor’s expression closed up a little. “Am I… too much? If I’m a bother, all you need to do is tell me. I’ll… back off.”

 

Ignoring the sting in his wrist, Yuuri twisted to grip Victor’s hands, clasped together above the back of the couch as they were. “No! Don’t… don’t think that for a moment.” Yuuri gulped – he wasn’t very good with his words, wasn’t good at saying how he really felt, but then and there, he HAD to speak his mind.

 

“Victor… you’re the only good thing that’s happened to me in the last few months. Don’t back off. If anything… cling to me more?” Staring intently at their clasped hands, Yuuri refused to so much as look up at Victor. He just couldn’t stand the thought that he was unwanted, at all, in any way.

 

Eventually, when Victor didn’t react at all, he forced himself to look up.

 

The sight froze him in place. Victor was staring at him with an intensity, a kind of emotion he’d never seen from anyone before. It was nearly overwhelming when their eyes met, something nameless passing between them – at least that was how it felt to Yuuri.

 

“V-Victor?” He eventually asked, when the older man seemed content to just keep… staring.

 

When the older skater averted his eyes, Yuuri shivered, suddenly cold despite the blankets. Hands slid away from his and he huddled back under the blanket. Victor didn’t go back to the kitchen though, just turned away and leaned against the back of the couch.

 

“Is… everything okay?” Yuuri asked when the other man STILL didn’t say anything. The Russian gave a jerky nod. “It’s… fine. I’m just… I can’t believe you’re REAL, that’s all.” “W-What do you mean?”

 

Victor turned, his expression slightly amused. “I mean, Yuuri Katsuki, that you can play me like a puppet on a string and you don’t even know.” That… made very little sense to him, actually. “I’m not playing you? I would never…” He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

 

“No, I know that well enough. You’re not that kind of person. You’re earnest and kind, and so utterly, hilariously unaware it makes me want to cry some days.”

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he ought to be offended or feel complimented. Possibly both. Probably, actually. Opening his mouth to respond, he wasn’t even really surprised when Victor pushed off the sofa and walked back to the stove.

 

“Do you want sour cream or cream cheese with your blini?”


	23. Chapter 23

Yuuri’s appointment with the Russian therapists had been… jarring, to say the least. He’d been a nervous mess from the second he woke – for perhaps the first time actually before Victor. The other skater had been so completely relaxed and… normal, it had grated on him. 

After careful examination by a shirtless Victor – and god, Yuuri had STARED – his wrist was declared perfectly fine, not that he hadn’t known that anyway, and Yuuri was declared well enough to make his own cup of tea in the morning.

Victor, Yuuri found out, was ANNOYING sometimes. This wasn’t technically a new discovery, of course, but the way Victor just chattered on and on as they sat in a cab to the doctor’s office… well, it didn’t help Yuuri’s mood any.

Sitting in the huge, looming and completely empty waiting room with Victor didn’t, either.

His doctor – a strict-looking woman who introduced herself as Anna and insisted on seeing his ankle immediately – proved to be… well, nice. A lot nicer than Yuuri had expected, actually. She made quick work of examining his ankle before exchanging a few sentences with Victor who, after whining for nearly ten minutes had received Yuuri’s permission to come along.

As she prodded his ankle, Yuuri shot Victor a curious look. “She treated me a couple years back. She knows what she’s doing… you’re in good hands.” The look Anna shot Victor could only be described as venomous. “Ah, yes… and if Mr. Katsuki here actually listens to me, I’m sure HE won’t suffer set-backs.”

“Set-backs?” Victor shrugged. “I went against her advice and skated two weeks sooner than I was allowed.” “What happened?” Victor’s easy smile faltered a little. “I tried to jump and fell… ended up tacking another three weeks of recovery time on.”

“Are you as disobedient as he was, Mr. Katsuki?” He looked down at the woman currently prodding his leg with something awfully pointy-looking. “Uh… no?” Victor snickered. “Yes, absolutely he is, but luckily for him, he has me to look after him. He won’t skate before he’s cleared.”

Only the vivid memory of the insane amount of money Victor was spending to help Yuuri recover better convinced him to keep his mouth shut… and even that was a bit of a close call. Taking a deep breath, he put his shoe back on when he received permission to do so.

A few short questions and two signatures later, Yuuri was on his way home again, a prescription for a salve and anti-inflammatories in his pocket, and a schedule for more appointments. The whole thing had been anti-climatic in his simplicity and he allowed himself to relax as they exited the building.

He nearly flinched when a tentative hand brushed against his, before twining their fingers together. He turned to look at Victor. “Are you… feeling better now? You were tense this morning.” Yuuri squeezed Victor’s fingers. “I… yeah. Sorry for taking it out on you?”

Victor gave him a beaming smile. “It’s fine! I tortured Yakov SO MUCH when I got hurt! I can take you being a bit… touchy.” Yuuri stopped, pulling Victor to a stop as well, their fingers still linked. “Yes but… you shouldn’t have to. You are already doing so much more than I deserve… I should at least be nice to you.”

“I’d rather you be honest, actually. Do you remember asking me to be myself? Over the phone?” Yuuri smiled weakly – of course he did. Before he’d gotten hurt, when for the most part, the only thing he’d worried about had been the… well, the thing between them both. It seemed far away now.

“Yes.” “Well, if you ask that of me, it’s only fair it also applies to you, no?” He hated how sensible a request it was. Why did Victor choose NOW to be so… reasonable? “I’ll do my best.”

Fingers squeezed his and then he was gently pulled along. “Come on! You must be tired and eager to go home!”

There were no words for how not true that was. “Could we… go somewhere first?” He asked, keen to be anywhere but the flat he’d been stuck in. Victor’s expression was one of pure delight.

“You mean like a date? Oh Yuuri, that’s so romantic!” It wasn’t what he’d meant, but… “Would you like to go out with me, Victor?” He asked, doing his best to fall into that tone that Victor liked. It was… it wasn’t as easy as it had been, but it still came surprisingly naturally.

“Yuuri!” The skater dramatically clutched at his chest. “What did you have in mind?” He shrugged. Anywhere… just not Victor’s flat. “How about… well, you like shopping, right?” Victor smirked. “Mhm, I do but you don’t… and your leg is hurt. Something less impacting I think.”

“How do you know I don’t like shopping?” Victor snickered as he ordered them a cab. “You forget that I hung up your clothes. There’s a café with a stunning view of the ocean not far? How do you feel about the best hot chocolate in Russia?”

His lips twitched up into a smile. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Victor beamed. “Then it’s decided.” The got into the cab, its arrival timed perfectly. “Is it far?” “No, just a few minutes’ drive, actually. You’ll love it, the upper floor is like a little garden.” “Sounds wonderful.”

It really did – then again, even the idea of shopping hadn’t filled him with the same kind of dread it usually did… Victor tended to have that effect. A finger brushed along his thigh, drawing his attention to the man sitting by his side. “Thanks for asking me on a date, Yuuri.”

He shivered at the sincerity in the other’s voice.

“It’s… my pleasure. Maybe when I can walk again… maybe we can do something else? If you want.” Victor grinned. “I would love nothing more. Ohh… maybe that can be my reward for winning gold at worlds?”

Yuuri felt several emotions flare up in quick succession – dread, disappointment, pain and then… amusement. So what if he couldn’t skate, couldn’t compete? He would never, could never begrudge Victor his ability to do so.

He shifted closer to the Russian. “Mhm, we can do that if you’d like. Or… you could think of another reward, if there’s something else you want. Something more… personal?” He didn’t miss Victor’s sharp intake of breath at his words.

“Yuuri…” “Yes, Vitya? A gold in worlds is different from a national one. I feel like… hm, you deserve something bigger? Something… better?” He practically purred, his knee bumping against Victor’s.

“Did you have something in mind?” Yuuri took a deep breath and gave Victor the most leering look he could manage. “What do you think?” “I think… I think that you should think about what if I get if I break my world records on top of the gold, because if this is the incentive, they’re as good as gone.”

Yuuri flushed at Victor’s casual (if slightly strained) promise to BREAK HIS OWN WORLD RECORDS in exchange for some reward from him of all people. He brushed his fingers over Victor’s affectionately and turned away to hide the worst of his blush.

God was he in over his head and GOD did he love it.


	24. Chapter 24

The café was every bit as impressive as Victor had promised – well, more so actually. Naturally, the other man had neglected to mention that it was the sort of place Yuuri couldn’t afford if he skipped his meals for a few days to save up.

 

He shouldn’t be surprised – in fact, it wasn’t that that surprised him. No, it was that the ‘little garden’ upstairs was… well, it was more of an entire indoor forest, really. The upper floor was filled with trees as tall as the ceiling, flowers and bushes everywhere. The theme seemed to be something like ‘Siberian winter’ because it was kept quite cool without being too cold, and the pine trees that made up most of the room’s fauna were covered in decorative snow.

 

The tables and chairs were arranged spaced out between the trees, all with a view down to the ocean, as well as a fair bit of privacy. Victor bade him to sit and went off to order their drinks. The place was… spectacular. The fake snow looked so realistic that Yuuri was actually a little surprised when he nudged it and it felt slightly warm under his fingers. The trees looked to be real, as did the other plants – bushes and the like.

 

The view over the ocean was stunning too – the café was only a few dozen steps from the pier and the slightly raised perspective made the water seem endless. Yuuri could even make out a few ships in the distance.

 

Warm hands brushed down his arms from behind and wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him backwards against an equally warm chest. “You look deep in thought… do you like it here?” He shivered when Victor’s breath tickled his throat.

 

“It’s stunning. Thank you for bringing me.” Victor pressed a brief kiss to his cheek. “Thank _you_ for coming with me. This… I’ve only ever come here alone. In the off-season sometimes, to read.” “I can imagine how wonderful that must be.”

 

With another brief squeeze, Victor pulled back, leaving Yuuri to feel a little chilly. Victor sat opposite of him, a curious expression on his face. “Hm?” “Ah, I was just… it’s nothing.” He tilted his head in confusion. “What is it?”

 

Victor sighed. “Can I ask you something really direct and personal?” Leaning back a little, Yuuri swallowed – the other man was blunt at the best of times… for him to actually ask permission…? It had to be bad.

 

He forced a smile. “Sure, go ahead.”

 

Victor opened his mouth – presumably to ask – when out of nowhere, a waiter appeared and placed down two mugs on the table. They were both huge – very nearly the size of soup bowls, and with whipped cream on top… whipped cream in the shape of icebergs, and with small marshmallows on top.

 

“Are those… are those polar bears?” Victor chuckled. “They are indeed. Do you like it?” Yuuri scrambled for his phone to snap photos of the elaborate construct on his hot chocolate. “These are AMAZING, Victor!” The Russian laughed.

 

“I didn’t think you were the type to take photos of food and such.” “I’m not, but LOOK at these! I’ll have to show my family and Phichit!” He realised a few moments later that he was acting like a child, scrambling to put his phone away as quickly as he’d pulled it out, sinking lower in his chair.

 

Victor was smiling at him – a small, indulgent and fond smile that made Yuuri blush harder than some of his more suggestive comments had.

 

Oh. Right.

 

“What, uh, did you want to ask?” The smile dropped and Yuuri instantly regretted reminding the other. As if to distract himself, Victor shifted and casually used his spoon to drop a few of his marshmallow bears over onto Yuuri’s mug, toppling one of the smaller icebergs.

 

“I wanted to ask… I mean, I know we haven’t because of the challenge but…” Oh. Sex. Right. Carefully, Yuuri scooped up some of the whipped cream and a bear and ate them – delicious. “What about… that?” Victor sighed softly. “If… if it wasn’t for that, would you?”

 

That… was by far the dumbest question he’d ever heard.

 

“Probably literally right here.” He answered truthfully, making them both blush – why was he such a mess? “I… I see. And can I ask… is it because of who I am?” He blinked in confusion. “Well… of course it is? I wouldn’t just, not with… just anyone?”

 

“Ah, no I meant if it’s because I’m… Victor Nikiforov.” Yuuri felt understanding flash through him. “Because I’ve been your fan for so long? I didn’t know it bothered you.” The other man grimaced. “It doesn’t. It DIDN’T, but… well, people have been telling me left and right that it’s… not a good idea to date a fan. I just… I trust you, but a part of me has been… curious.”

 

“Fair enough. So basically what you’re asking me is why I’m interested in you?” He could practically hear the denial even before the other man parted his lips… but then he reconsidered. “Yes… I suppose that’s it.”

 

Yuuri sighed, eating another two marshmallow bears. “Vitya… Please don’t take this insecurity thing from me, that’s sort of all I have.” “Ahhh, it’s stupid, isn’t it?” Victor laughed awkwardly, stirring his hot chocolate.

 

“Not if… not if that’s the way you feel.” The other man’s silence was explanation enough. “Victor… Vitya… honestly, you’re nothing like what I thought you were when I didn’t know you. I admired you from afar and I believed the press – the smooth, suave ice prince and all that.” “And are you disappointed that instead I’m just a clingy, needy mess?”

 

Yuuri bit the head off another bear, the sugar tingling against his teeth. “If I was, would I be here? I came to RUSSIA for you, Victor. I wouldn’t have done that for a poster.”

 

The older skater placed a finger on his lips in contemplation… it really had no right to look as sexy as it did. “You came because of your ankle…?” He wasn’t entirely sure it was a question, but he decided to answer it anyway. For the first time, finding the resolve within himself, the strength to look Victor in the eye and speak his mind came easy to him, so natural that he didn’t even have to think about it.

 

“No, Victor. I came for you. I want to be around you because you are this ridiculous, wonderful man that keeps surprising me at every turn and I want to fuck you because you are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

The silence between them felt heavy, only interrupted by a quiet whimper from Victor.

 

For once in his life, Yuuri WASN’T blushing… but Victor was. The man’s pink-tinged cheeks coloured more and more until he could even see the tips of his ears tinge a lovely shade of almost-red.

 

Victor thought he’d come because of the posters? His ankle? Ridiculous.


	25. Chapter 25

They sat in silence, staring at each other, for quite a long time, until, eventually, Yuuri’s determination broke and he broke eye contact first, watching the last few bits of his whipped cream iceberg melting into the hot chocolate.

 

It smelled divine.

 

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice was slightly too high to be normal, but they were both content to ignore that, it seemed. “Please… can you just not say anything because I can’t believe I said any of that, to be honest.” He ground out before awkwardly stirring his hot chocolate.

 

Victor cleared his throat and Yuuri glanced up to find his skin back to its normal colour. “I… yes, that’s fine. Just, uh, one thing?” He steeled himself for whatever the ‘thing’ was. “Yes?”

 

“Yuuri Katsuki… the challenge you gave me is the best thing that’s ever happened to me… and also, if you asked me, right now, to bend you over this table or for me to bend over it or whatever, I’d throw it out the window and do it.”

 

Mouth hanging open, Yuuri tried to think of something to say – some kind of reply using actual words that would hopefully distract him from his half-hard cock. He was far too far gone for the older skater.

 

Neither of them said anything for several minutes, intense want burning in both their eyes. Eventually Yuuri found his words again. “Vitya… you have to know that the reason I like you, want you, is… you, right? I would LOVE to just… do it, but I’m happy to hold back because it’s what you want. I wouldn’t… I will never push for something you don’t want. I respect you too much.”

 

Victor’s fingers snapped across the table, clenching around Yuuri’s almost too hard, his other hand holding his spoon. “I… know that. I do. It’s just nice to hear it. Sorry to trouble you.” A small smile played across his features. “Victor… no trouble. None at all. Not ever.”

 

The Russian laughed softly. “Is that so? I get called annoying at least once a day, you know.” “Clearly those people don’t know the real you at all.” Victor leaned back in his seat, his gaze a little weary. “You don’t… think so? What if the real me really is annoying though?”

 

Yuuri shrugged. “It’s not. I mean, if THEY think you’re annoying, that’s their loss.”

 

Victor sighed deeply. “Ah, so that’s what you meant?” “What… did you think I meant?” The other man lifted their still clasped hands and pressed a long, hard kiss to Yuuri’s knuckles. “It’s nothing, nothing at all. Drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”

 

Smiling softly, he awkwardly lifted the huge mug with his spare hand – Victor hadn’t let go yet – and sipped it. It was his first taste of the actual beverage and it was absolutely divine. Moaning quietly, he didn’t miss the small whine Victor gave in reaction, nor the way long legs tangled with his own under the table.

 

“This… is the best hot chocolate ever.” He declared as he set the mug down, only barely not spilling any. “Definitely the best. God, if I didn’t gain weight so easily, I could live on this.” He half-mumbled, flushing a little when he realised that Victor had heard him.

 

“Well, I could bring you back some on my way home from training from time to time… if you’d like. I’m sure you won’t gain much at all, and even if you did…” Victor shrugged before continuing. “I wouldn’t mind. Once you’re back on the ice, you’ll lose it all anyway.”

 

The ice. Skating. God, Yuuri missed it. He awkwardly pulled his hand back and sipped some more of the chocolate, holding the mug in both hands this time. “I suppose. I… miss it. I skate when I need to clear my head, when I feel anxious, and now… I can’t.” Victor nodded. “I know. I get it. I felt the same when I was injured… but you’ll be back to it soon enough. You’re healing faster than they said.”

 

Victor licked his spoon, Yuuri’s eyes naturally following the motion. “And until then… who is to say you can’t have some hot chocolate now and again?” Sadly, he had very little argument against that. “You’ll regret that once you won’t fit on the bed next to me.”

 

The other skater snickered. “Does that mean I’ll have to cuddle you? Wrap myself around you? Sounds terrible, really. Besides, there is still exercise that you CAN do, isn’t there?” Yuuri shrugged. “I suppose so, I could go to the gym… swimming, maybe. You suggested pole because there’s lots of stuff there I can do with just one ankle…” He trailed off when he noticed Victor’s amused expression.

 

Thinking back on their last few sentences, he blushed. “Oh! Oh! So that’s what you…” Victor winked at him. Well, he wasn’t going to let that go. Sipping some more hot chocolate, he made a show of studying the other man’s body. “I don’t think that’s an option though?”

  
“Why not?” Victor was almost pouting in the cutest way. “You have worlds to prepare for, right? I don’t think Yakov would like it if I wore you out too much.” Victor sighed. “No, no, he wouldn’t.” “Then again…” Yuuri added, a little sly. “I suppose I could always do… most of the work?”

 

“Yuuri!” Victor sounded positively delighted. “I can’t allow that though. As your… it’s senpai, isn’t it?” He grimaced but nodded. “As your senpai, wouldn’t it be my duty to take the lead?” Yuuri tried very, very, very hard not to think about all the stupid ‘notice me, senpai’ jokes Phichit used to make about his obsession with Victor.

 

No, Phichit could never find out about this conversation. “First of all… I don’t really think of you as my senpai? We are rivals, and, whatever, well this is. Not… definitely not senpai-kouhai.” Victor nodded. “That’s fair enough. Still, I could hardly let you do all the work. In fact, I dimly recall something about… making me beg for something?”

 

Once again, Yuuri was a little out of his depth, and once again a not-so-small part of him wanted to… play. That part seemed to get louder the more time he spent with Victor.

 

“Well, you’ll have to beg when I tie you to the bed… and I’d still be doing the work, wouldn’t I?” He saw the shudder, the way desire clouded blue eyes. It was beautiful and so, so empowering because it was HIM that caused it.

 

“That’s… okay, I’d be SO into that.” Victor admitted, not quite making eye-contact. “Yuuri?” “Hm?” “How would you like to… go home? We can always get more of this later.” He stared down at his half-full mug, then at his companion.

 

“Let’s go.”


	26. Chapter 26

Even telling himself that it was just a fantasy, that they wouldn’t, weren’t there yet… it did absolutely nothing to quell his arousal as they sat in the cab home, the quiet heat he felt burning in himself as they walked the last few steps, as Victor pulled the front door shut behind them.

 

Yuuri found himself ever so gently shoved past an excited Makkachin and into the bedroom, automatically crawling onto the huge bed and turning. Victor was standing at the foot of it, staring at him… like Yuuri was food and Victor was starving.

 

He reached out to the other man, fingers barely brushing against his arm when Victor leaned down, kneeling on the bed as well. Yuuri couldn’t be sure who moved first, who closed the distance, but a moment later he found himself on his back, Victor blanketing his entire body.

 

Their kiss was deep, slow and it made his toes curl, ankle be damned.

 

Both hands fisted into Victor’s hair, he didn’t even try to quiet the moan that escaped him when Victor rubbed their tongues together just right. In the end, it was the older skater that drew back first. “Yuuri…” He tried to calm himself, to quell the desperate arousal in his body.

 

“Victor? Why… why all of a sudden? The last few days, you haven’t really…” He cursed when Victor grimaced and rolled off of him. That was the LAST thing he wanted. “Yeah… I know. It just sunk in though, that I practically forced you to come? I mean, I all but came to Japan, talked you into following me to Russia and then just… I wasn’t sure if it was what you wanted.”

 

“I want you.” He responded, the sentence true in so, so, so many ways.

 

Victor smiled.

 

“Yes… me too. So much. God, I wish I could tell you…” Yuuri bit his lip, hesitating for a second before rolling to his side and closing the gap between their bodies, his chest pressed against Victor’s side. “You could, you know.”

 

“I can’t, the challenge-” Yuuri shook his head. “Is something you said you want, but… you can want more than one thing you know. You can want this… and that.” Victor laughed. “Mhm… I want many things… but Yuuri, I want the challenge more than… just sex.”

 

Oh.

 

Ouch.

 

“Don’t misunderstand me, I meant what I said in the café. If you… if you really, seriously asked me, you could get me to abandon it easily. I’m not self-sacrificing enough to turn you down, but… I’m asking you not to.” Not a lot he could say to that. “I don’t… want to make you do something you don’t want to. I’ve waited all my life to meet you, I can wait until you really want this.”

 

Hands framed his cheeks and he was pulled into another kiss, this time him on top of Victor, the other man’s thigh slotting in between his legs. “I really, really want it now… but I want more than just sex.”

 

“And… the challenge is the way to get that, apparently?” It didn’t make sense to Yuuri. He’d spent literal hours wondering what in the world his drunk self could have said or done to Victor, to no avail. Victor sighed.

 

“Maybe… maybe not. But I won’t know until I do it. It’ll… be better for both of us. Do you believe that?” Did he? Not… really, but it was Victor. He forced a smile. “Sure.”  Victor raised a perfect eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me, Yuuri.”

 

He let himself drop back to the bed. “Sorry. I just don’t… truth be told, I don’t quite get it. I just… want.” He’d meant to say ‘want you’ but Victor understood anyway. “What if… what if I told you a little more about it?”

 

He gulped. “Yes. I’d… like that. Is it…” He frowned, realisation suddenly striking him out of nowhere. “Is it about what you asked me about in the café? Whether or not I like you because you’re famous?” Victor pursed his lips.

 

“You could say that. It’s not quite that, but it’s close enough.” Yuuri nodded slowly. “So… is the challenge supposed to be me proving that I do like you for you? That I like how you are? That I DON’T find you annoying?”

 

Victor stared for a moment, then threw his head back and howled with laughter. Yuuri was torn between amusement and offence at the way the Russian curled in on himself, laughing until he was out of breath.

 

It was adorable… even if it was at his expense.


	27. Chapter 27

Eventually, Victor calmed and shook his head, a hand idly tracing the back of Yuuri’s head, hands sliding through his hair evenly. “Oh Yuuri… that… no, you have it all backwards.” “Oh?” Since Victor was touching him, he thought it was probably okay for him to do the same.

 

His fingers brushed over Victor’s cheekbone, a gasp escaping him when the Russian nuzzled into his hand. “The challenge isn’t for you, not at all. You… don’t have to do anything. If anything, you, my dear, are the prize, the reward I get when I complete it. Or at least I’m hoping you will be.”

 

Yuuri had… never been a prize before. He felt himself flush a little.

 

“No, I am the one with something to prove here. I told you, didn’t I? I have to prove I’m worth it.” Yuuri snorted – he DID remember, and it sounded as stupid now as it had then. “Victor… I followed you to Russia. What do you have to prove?” A secretive smile appeared on his lips. “Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, since this clearly isn’t getting anywhere… can I help you with it? Completing the challenge. I… want this, want you.” He was still half-hard, actually. Victor beamed at him, his fingers stilling in Yuuri’s hair. “You don’t have to do anything. You’ve already done so much for me… I couldn’t expect more.”

 

On instinct, Yuuri pulled Victor’s hand from his hair and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his ring finger before releasing it. “I want to help, if I can. I want… I want you to expect more. I want you to want more.” ‘I want you to want ME more’ he thought but didn’t say – he had already revealed a bit more than he’d meant to.

 

Victor didn’t reply, didn’t react at all for a few seconds. When he did, it sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine. The other man’s expression was serious, his voice low when he spoke… in Russian. Melodious as always, he loved the sound of it for all that he couldn’t understand it. It was only a few sentences, but Victor’s voice made him bite his lip to hide a gasp.

 

“You… know I don’t understand, right?” He asked after Victor fell quiet. “Mh! You weren’t supposed to. That’s… fine. I just needed to say it, that’s all.” “I, uh see? All of this is a bit confusing.” He admitted, not surprised when Victor shrugged. “It is for me too. Feelings are like that… or so someone really smart once told me.”

 

Yuuri could only nod – he hadn’t heard that expression before, but it certainly made sense. “Fair enough. I guess… well, we’ll make it work.” Victor beamed. “Yes! Yes, we will.” The beautiful man’s expression changed to something Yuuri couldn’t quite give a name to, something that made him feel warm inside. He gasped when Victor’s eyes darted to his lips and back to his eyes.

 

“And now…” Victor leaned closer and Yuuri half-expected to be kissed again, but the man paused just before they would have touched.

 

“Are you homesick?”

 

“Am I WHAT?”


	28. Chapter 28

“Homesick! Do you miss Japan? You’ve been here a week now!”

 

Jarring topic-change aside, it wasn’t a terrible question… WAS he homesick? “I guess… a little? I’ve been texting and such with everyone. It’s not so bad since I was in Detroit for so long anyway.” Victor nodded. “So… do you miss Detroit more then?”

 

He wasn’t quite sure why the man was frowning, but he shrugged it off. “Not really… I mean I miss Phichit, but Detroit was mostly… skating. I miss that, most of all.” Victor gave him a sympathetic look. “I get that. Would you like to have Japanese food tonight?”

 

Yuuri snorted. “Is that why you asked?” “Mh, there’s a Japanese couple that runs what is supposed to be a super authentic restaurant a few blocks away.” “That… sounds lovely.” “Perfect! And for now, let me show you something!”

 

“Show me something?”

 

“Mhm! Remember when you sent me that box for my gold medal reward?” He watched in horror as Victor climbed off the bed and knelt down next it, scrambling up in a panic – Victor could NOT find out he’d snooped and signed those posters!

 

Just when the older man had kneeled down next to the bed and stretched out his hand for the box underneath, Yuuri’s own hand snapped forwards, grabbing a fistful of Victor’s shirt and yanking him forward, closer to Yuuri.

 

In his panic, it was the only thing he could think of, pressing their mouths together in a firm kiss. Victor didn’t fight him for a moment, instead parting his lips eagerly under Yuuri’s. He drew him closer until Victor was on his elbows leaning against the bed, both of his hands buried in Yuuri’s hair.

 

He was a little higher up than Victor, had to tilt his head down a bit to find a good angle to kiss the other. It was… intoxicating, especially when Victor grew more and more pliant, his nails deliciously scraping over Yuuri’s scalp as they kissed.

 

When the Russian drew away, they were both panting, both slightly flushed… and Yuuri was nearly painfully turned on. Victor cursed quietly in Russian before shooting Yuuri an apologetic glance. Stretching out on the bed, Yuuri just stared – what was he even DOING?

 

“Yuuuuri…” Victor eventually groaned, still leaning on the bed. “That was… wow, Yuuri!” He flushed a little more. “Sorry, I should have asked.” The kneeling man shook his head. “NO! Definitely not. That… just… no you don’t need permission. Uhm… what brought it on?”

 

“Uh… I just liked seeing you on your knees?” The look Victor gave him was pure fire – apparently his explanation hadn’t sounded as stupid to Victor as it had in his head. “God, Yuuri… ah, if it wasn’t for my knees, I would’ve kept kissing you until either of us ran out of breath!”

 

With a wince, Yuuri realised – Victor was a skater. One who’d been doing it longer than he had… his knees would HAVE to hurt from quads and injuries. Guilt stabbed through him – his stupid snooping secret wasn’t worth hurting the other.

 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to –” “No, it’s fine, Yuuri. Hm, maybe next time we can do this with a pillow?” The man stood with a slight wince, Yuuri’s guilt only worsening as he watched. “Next time…” He muttered quietly, surprised when Victor heard him and smirked.

 

“Hm, if you want, of course. It’s your choice.”

 

IF he wanted to kiss Victor. Yeah right. “Of course I do. I’m just… sorry? I didn’t want to hurt you, I really didn’t.” Slightly swollen lips pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You didn’t, honestly. It was just starting to, so I pulled away. It’s fine. I… liked it? A lot.” Nodding his assent, he watched as Victor stretched and smiled.

 

“Are you hungry yet? We could try to walk to the restaurant if your ankle is up for it. If we walk slowly…” The man trailed off, his eyes scanning Yuuri’s ankle. He wasn’t hungry at all – not for food anyway. “Sure, we can do that.”

 

He shuffled to the edge of the bed, ready to get up when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Victor smiled softly and sat on the floor before the bed, his legs crossed under him – more comfortable for his knees, Yuuri noticed.

 

Then, firm hands grasped his injured ankle and lightly massaged it. “Would you like me to give you a massage first? You’ll have an easier time of it if you’re relaxed.” Like Yuuri needed an excuse to accept such an offer?

 

“Please.” He bit out, relieved when his voice sounded normal.

 

Victor beamed and started moving his fingers in earnest, pulling his trouser leg up and over his knee. He started by stretching and moving Yuuri’s ankle a little to test its mobility before firmly digging his fingers into his calf-muscles. It felt… good.

 

Eventually, his hands trailed a little lower and Victor started on the sole of his foot. Yuuri couldn’t help the way his heart thumped a little faster at the sight – the older man was perfectly dedicated to his task, a small smile on his lips.

 

“Thank you, Victor. That feels really… nice.” Ice blue eyes flickered up and Victor’s smile widened. “I’m glad! Hm, maybe I should do this for you more often if it helps with your pain…” He laughed. “N-No! There’s no need! I mean I appreciate it, but you don’t have to…” Victor pressed a kiss to his shin.

 

“I want to. If it helps you…”

 

Oh.

 

Wow.

 

“Vitya…” He whined – gratitude warring with arousal for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to NOT be half-turned on at any given time. Victor paused for a moment and then leaned forward, his forehead resting against Yuuri’s knee.

 

“This is… I like it because it feels intimate? I never quite know where your boundaries are, Yuuri.” “My… boundaries?” “Yes. Sometimes you blush if I wink at you, and sometimes… you push me against doors and kiss me until I forget my own name.”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be confusing.” “I know you don’t. I’m not angry either… just, matching your expectations is difficult when I can’t tell what they are.” Victor’s fingers were still steadily moving over his skin, relaxing him.

 

“Victor… you don’t have to do that? Always adjust to me, I mean. If I do something you don’t like, please let me know.” The Russian teasingly licked the skin just under his knee, making him jump a little. “You haven’t yet. It’s more like… I don’t want to overwhelm you. I know I’ve sort of been doing that since Sochi, so…”

 

Yuuri licked his lips and reached down, running his fingers over Victor’s cheek. His heart was racing – he wasn’t entirely sure why, really. For the first time in a while, Victor’s motions stilled, their eyes meeting in a way that felt almost like physical touch. Yuuri tilted up the other man’s head, so that they were looking at each other directly.

 

He licked his lips again, wondering why they suddenly felt so dry.

 

“Victor… don’t do that. Don’t… sacrifice something for me? You won’t overwhelm me, honestly. I’ve actually been worried about the same thing? I’m not… sure what’s appropriate? What you want or don’t? I mean you let me into your home, there’s the challenge… it’s a lot.”

 

Thankfully, despite the fumbling, Victor seemed to understand him perfectly. “Why didn’t you ask…?” Yuuri cringed a little. “Victor… I have anxiety. I can’t even complain to a waiter if my food isn’t good in a restaurant. You think I could just ask stuff like that from the impossibly gorgeous man I somehow ended up living with? The one I’ve admired since I was a kid?”

 

He slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as the words escaped him, biting back a whimper – only the sheer delight in Victor’s face stopped him from outright bolting away. “Yuuuuri! You really think I’m pretty?”

 

Yuuri blinked down at the man – how could he NOT know? Of course he knew, he had to. Still, he shook his head. “Not pretty. Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.” To his delight, Victor blushed, and unlike Yuuri, he made no attempt to hide it, his brilliant smile shining up at him, fingers stilling on his foot.

 

“Yuuri…”

 

“Hm?”

 

Victor’s smile faltered a little, but he resumed his motions. “Nothing at all, for now. Are you ready for dinner in a bit? I promise, it’ll be delicious.” Yuuri smiled down at Victor with all the fondness he felt for the man at that moment. “I look forward to having dinner together, Vitya.”


	29. Chapter 29

Dinner was, in one word, a dream. The food was delicious, the Japanese couple was a fan of his skating and Victor… Victor was there. They spent the entire dinner pressed slightly closer together than the generously sized room required and all in all, Yuuri couldn’t have been happier. They shared a cup of sake before heading back, Yuuri’s ankle blissfully pain-free as he walked, Victor close enough that he could feel the other man’s body heat radiate over.

 

They went home, fell straight into bed… and straight asleep. It was anticlimactic, much as Yuuri had expected it. What he hadn’t expected was the fact that a half-asleep Victor grabbed his hand and nuzzled it against his face before dropping back to sleep. Yuuri had to shift into a semi-comfortable position in order to not have to pull away… and yet he couldn’t, as he watched Victor’s face against his fingers, felt his breath on his palm.

 

He fell asleep that way, watching Victor sleep.

 

He also woke up that way, earlier than Victor, and with a determination that seemed to come from nowhere. Patiently watching the man still cradling his hand like it was something soft, he made a decision – he wanted to go to Victor’s rink. Even if he couldn’t skate, he could and would watch, needed to, even.

 

The older man would NOT deny him, Yuuri was sure.

 

Of course, his resolve was crumbling as soon as Victor’s ridiculously pretty lashes fluttered and the sweetest smile crossed his features. “Good morning.” He mumbled and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s palm as if it was nothing. Yuuri smiled back, his insides clenching pleasantly.

 

“Hey… Did you sleep well?” The grip on his hand tightened as Victor nuzzled it closer. “Very. How about you?” “Me too.” It was a lie – his hip hurt and his arm was sore, but dammit, the sight before him was worth it.

 

“Can I… ask you for a favour today?” Victor didn’t even stop nuzzling his hand. “Anything at all.” Smiling weakly, he flexed his fingers to brush Victor’s cheekbone. “Ah, can I come to the rink with you?” He steeled himself for rejection, for Victor telling him he wasn’t ready… but instead all he got was a soft hum followed by lips insistently pressing down on his palm.

 

“Of course you can. I was wondering when you’d ask. We’ll take a cab.” The words were mumbled against his skin moments before Victor parted his lips and teasingly licked his palm a little, just enough to make heat shoot through Yuuri. Still, he was pre-occupied with something else.

 

“Just… like that? You don’t mind?” Lips trailed up his palm and to his middle finger. “Of course not. I love it when you watch me skate. Plus, that way I know that you’re okay. I worry.” Victor Nikiforov worried about him. Oh god.

 

Said Victor Nikiforov also gently closed his lips around the tip of Yuuri’s middle finger and pressed an almost wet kiss to it – a little more and it would have been more of a suck, and Yuuri REALLY wasn’t ready to go there.

 

Though, he also didn’t pull his hand away. He wasn’t stupid. 

 

“Thank you. That means a lot.” He felt Victor’s smile, once again against his palm, his nose brushing his ring finger. “And as I said… anything for you. We’ll have a little time before we leave then.” “Oh? You normally leave early.” “Mhm… I run on the way there. Since we’re taking a cab…”

 

A tongue licked a soft path across his hand and Yuuri shuddered in response.

 

“But… you need your exercise?” He asked weakly, his hand suddenly feeling like the most erogenous zone on his body. “Oh? Are you… offering?” He saw Victor’s smirk – the man was well aware of what he was doing.

 

With startling clarity Yuuri remembered what he’d asked for… he’d asked Victor to stop holding back. If this was what that got him… god yes. Careful not to dislodge his hand, he rolled closer until their bodies were almost pressed together. Victor sighed softly – pleasure, not disappointment.

 

At a soft brush of his free hand to Victor’s shoulder, the man rolled his head away, his cheek pressed into Yuuri’s hand… and his neck exposed. Perfect.

 

Yuuri started by pressing a firm kiss below the other man’s ear, flattered by the full body shudder it got him. Victor smelled delightful and though he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, Victor seemed to be trembling a little.

 

“Offering… offering what?” He mumbled, before he kissed a path from the man’s jaw to the soft fabric of his shirt. Victor practically purred. “A workout, of course!” He laughed softly when Yuuri pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his neck next. “You want me to… work you?”

A shaky laugh rumbled through the man practically underneath him. “Oh but you would, wouldn’t you? I bet it’d be so, so good too…” Instead of answering, that strange imposter-Yuuri that was starting to feel more and more like himself bit down on the skin below, a soft, gentle bite that made them both shudder.

 

Yuuri drew back with a sigh, strangely pleased by the light pink mark he left – Victor’s skin was so sensitive… He gulped at the thought of what else might be. With a sigh, he let himself sink against Victor’s chest, nestling his head under Victor’s chin, his nose teasing the man’s collarbone. His arm, still under Victor’s head was starting to smart a little but he wouldn’t be the first to move, that much was sure.

 

“Vitya…” He eventually all but growled, his free hand rubbing circles on Victor’s hip. “Yes?” “I want… god I WANT you.”

 

All of a sudden, his hand was freed, and Victor’s pulled him up by the neck, their mouths crashing together, neither of them caring that they were rough, not having brushed their teeth. The kiss felt more like a fight, a competition, a contest to see who could overpower the other.

 

Neither of them were going to give in easily… in the end, Yuuri’s competitive nature won though, because he roughly thrust his leg forward, slipping between Victor’s and with a small whimper, the man softened, somehow, his concentration seemingly gone in an instant as he allowed himself to be kissed… all the while his hips tried to thrust down.

 

Oh.

 

Yuuri scooted up a little, putting them together a little more evenly, and just like that, Victor was thrusting against his thigh and not just air. It felt… spectacular, having the older man half-grind on him in obvious desire.

 

It was also obvious just how hard, how far gone Victor was because he all bust stopped kissing Yuuri, his movements becoming faster, steadier, more insistent… Yuuri gulped. When Victor quietly moaned his name, he grit his teeth and pulled away.

 

A hoarse cry rang through the room as Victor pulled back, something like pain flashing across his features. He had to have been… close. Yuuri whimpered quietly because he wanted nothing more than to reach for him and finish it…but… but he promised.

 

Pressing a kiss to Victor’s unresponsive lips, he put a little more distance between them. “Sorry, Victor. I… meant what I said. Not until you really want to.” “Sorry did it feel like I DIDN’T want you?” Victor’s tone was a little frosty and he winced. “No, I know… Honestly, me too, but just yesterday you said…”

 

With a rough curse, Victor rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, facing the window, his back to Yuuri. Was he… angry?

 

On sheer reflex, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Victor’s shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his neck.

 

“…Victor? Are you… mad?”

 

“Yes.”


	30. Chapter 30

“Not… not at you though, don’t worry.” The man continued a moment that seemed like an eternity later. “Oh? Then…” Victor shrugged. “At myself. I have NO self-control when it comes to you. I just… the things you do to me.” He half-twisted in Yuuri’s arms, a serious expression on his face.

 

“Can you promise me something?”

 

He nodded mutely.

 

“As soon as this is… when we’re both ready, I want you to tear my clothes off with your TEETH and I want you to fucking ruin me.” Mouth hanging open at the growled demand because quite suddenly he could speak neither English NOR Japanese, he gave the tiniest nod, his arms falling slack from Victor’s shoulders because what the HELL?

 

Quite abruptly, Victor stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll… be a while.” Awkwardly glancing down to his very visible problem, Yuuri nodded again, his mouth probably, maybe still open – he wasn’t sure.

 

He watched as Victor retreated to the bathroom quickly, his hand in his own underwear before the lock clicked shut. It took him maybe two minutes and a pillow to muffle his moans to finish himself off – there was nothing for it. Absolutely nothing else would have made his problem go away, not when he knew that Victor was in the bathroom, doing the same thing, probably, hopefully, thinking about Yuuri.

 

Breathing hard as he came down from his climax, he grinned weakly – there was something teenage-Yuuri had done A LOT…

 

And now Victor Nikiforov, the very man from said teenage fantasies was there- a choked moan interrupted his train of thought and probably his very heartbeat. Time itself seemed to still as the throaty sound rang through the closed door.

 

A few moments later, the shower started, which meant… Victor hadn’t even bothered to get into the shower first. Had just… just like Yuuri. Damn.

 

He felt himself twitch a little, almost relieved he couldn’t get hard again – he needed his arms working with the crutches for the rest of the day after all. Scrambling out of bed and out of his soiled clothes, he managed to clean himself up and change before the water even shut off, deciding he might as well feed Makkachin – standing at the door listening to Victor shower wasn’t going to do him any good.

 

Or it might do him VERY good said the part of his mind that was furious that he’d not gone through with it when Victor clearly would have.

 

Yuuri made coffee, a cup of it steaming and ready when Victor came out of the bedroom a little later, already dressed and not quite meeting his eye. That was fine – Yuuri was much happier watching him out of the corners of his eyes anyway. That felt… safer.

 

Safe, like the distance between them in the cab. Safe like not walking with Victor into the changing room and instead heading directly to the rink, surprised to find quite a few people there already.

 

Yakov approached him immediately, a firm handshake and a nod later, he was led to a stand a few steps away, and firmly placed into a slightly raised chair – raised enough that he had a good view of the rink.

 

“Victor had me get this when you arrived. He figured you’d come and watch.” “Ah, thank you Mr. Feltsman. I appreciate all your trouble.” “It’s… fine. Skaters can call me Yakov, Katsuki. You should focus on your recovery. Maybe with you here instead of at home Victor will stop constantly trying to leave early.”

 

“He… did?” Yakov grunted. “First time in about twenty years, I think. Well, second time – the first was when you got hurt. He was… beside himself. I saw him fall on a double.” Yuuri sucked in a deep breath – he’d KNOWN of course, how badly Victor had been affected but… but…

 

A hand clasped his shoulder, not unkindly. “Don’t blame yourself. Just focus on your recovery. If Victor is right, you’ll give him a run for his money when you’re back on the ice.” Yuuri snorted. “Not unless HE gets hurt next… and even then, I might not.”

 

Yakov have him a calculating look. “You’re called Japan’s Ace, da?” Yuuri gave a small nod. “Well then, act like it. I’ve seen you. When you’re good, you’re good. The rest of the time… well, you’re inconsistent.” With that, Yakov all but stalked off, only for another hand – that one FAR less kind to snap down onto his shoulder.

 

“The old man was trying to cheer you up. He sucks at it.” Yuuri relaxed a little when he recognised the voice of Yuri Plisetsky. “Oh? I think it was… nice.” Yuri huffed. “Well, you would, wouldn’t you? Don’t get in the way when we’re training. SOME of us have medals to get.”

 

Yuuri smiled half-heartedly as the teenager stalked to the rink, his skate guards dropped casually in Yuuri’s lap – who did the kid think he was fooling anyway? Yuuri watched him warm up on the ice, the same angry energy he’d seen in Hasetsu. It was oddly reassuring, and it easily bridged the gap until Victor appeared, skates already on, headed straight for Yuuri.

 

For the first time since that morning, their eyes met across the room, and just for a moment, Victor’s sure step seemed to falter a bit before he closed the rest of the distance to Yuuri’s side. “Are you comfortable?”

 

“Yes.” He answered truthfully, automatically reaching for Victor’s skate guards as the older man took them off. Victor handed them over with a smile and a soft brush of his thumb over Yuuri’s cheek. Victor paused though, before stepping away. “Is it… is it strange that I’m a little nervous?”

 

“Nervous?” Victor hummed. “That… you’re here. Watching. You haven’t seen me skate in a bit and I’m just… I haven’t been training as… hard as I could have.” Yuuri chuckled softly, all too familiar with Victor’s feelings at the moment… of course, his were a hundred times worse, usually.

 

“Vitya… you could skate figure eights for the next four hours and I’d enjoy watching you.” The beaming smile he got in response to his words made something soft in his gut unfurl… how did Victor have that deep an effect on him so easily? It wasn’t FAIR!

 

“Then… watch me.” Victor requested, his voice too low to be anything but suggestive. Damn.

 

“Have done all my life, I see no reason to stop now.”

 

“VICTOR!” An angry Yakov belted across the rink, his voice echoing in the open space and completely breaking the moment. Victor didn’t look back again as he hurried the last two steps to the ice, and Yuuri was glad – even he didn’t know what his expression would have been.

 

He found out an hour later when his namesake picked up his skate guards and assured him he was extremely disgusting and that he needed to stop drooling before someone slipped.

 

Well, that obviously wasn’t going to happen, Victor was practicing his quad flip. He off-handedly told Yuri to bring along a towel instead, a suggestion that was met with rather violent retching sounds from the teen.

 

Practice was fun, all in all.


	31. Chapter 31

Yuuri was back there with Victor the next day, and the one after that. It became something of a ritual for them, morning cuddles, sometimes kisses, coffee and a cab ride to the rink. Yuuri would sit in his chair, the skaters would use him as a skate guard… guard.

 

As he met the others and got to know them – Georgi and Mila, they too started to chat to him from time to time. Of course, Yuuri wasn’t blind, he knew that Victor occasionally prodded them to do so when Yuuri had shooed him away and back to training after one too many water-breaks, none of which involved drinking but all of which involved asking Yuuri how he was doing.

 

Not that he wasn’t grateful for the concern, but Victor had training to do… they were only a few days off worlds, after all, something that Yuuri had all but forgotten about. Victor certainly wasn’t acting as if the biggest competition in the world was coming up. No, he just grinned and skated tiny figure eights behind Yakov’s back when he caught Yuuri looking.

 

As a matter of fact it was Yakov that was the most surprising thing about their routine in the last few days leading up to worlds. The imposing coach… he took to hanging around Yuuri and asking his opinion, both on Yuri’s skating and on Victor’s.

 

Half the time he dismissed Yuuri’s comments with a huff… but the other half, he relayed it to the two of them. Victor was delighted, of course, and Yuuri was just confused – he never could work up the courage to actually, well, ask Yakov why he was asking HIM of all people for his opinion.

 

The day before Victor’s flight to worlds, it was Yuuri not Victor that was feeling the pressure. He was short with the Russian, snapping at him when he saw just how… relaxed he was. Realistically there were few if any threats to Victor, but, rubbing his ankle, Yuuri couldn’t help but think about how easy it was to get hurt anyway.

 

He didn’t tell Victor though, because he knew the older man would feel guilty for it, for making Yuuri feel bad… which was stupid, because he had no reason to.

 

Saying goodbye to Victor the morning he had to leave for the airport was… painful, to say the least. He’d declined Yuuri’s offer to come to the airport with him, and so they had spent a good five minutes on Victor’s doorstep kissing – gentle, slow kisses, tasting of a little bit of salt because Yuuri couldn’t help his tears.

 

He was strangely afraid, irrationally worried Victor would get hurt too. When the door closed behind him and Makka whined, he half feared the Russian wouldn’t come back. Only the fact that literal seconds later his phone buzzed with a text allowed him to turn away from the closed door.

 

He nearly collapsed onto the couch when he actually looked at the message. ‘I know you’re worried for me but DON’T be. I’m Victor Nikiforov, remember?’ Oh. Victor knew. He’d figured it out… well, Yuuri wasn’t the subtlest of people, to be fair, not when it came to the Russian anyway.

 

‘I know. I just… worry. I’m sorry I’ve been taking it out on you. You don’t deserve it.’ The reply was nearly instant. ‘Mh, I don’t but I don’t mind. <3 <3 <3 You worrying over me like that is just <3.’

 

Well, clearly, Yuuri had been overthinking things… again. He sighed. What else was new? Before he could really contemplate the question, another text beeped on his phone. ‘Have you started thinking about what reward I get if I break my records?’ Oops – Yuuri hadn’t. He’d forgotten about their conversation entirely.

 

Cursing softly, he decided pretty drastic measures were in order since Victor would be back in a mere five days. Yuuri gulped and dialled Phichit.


	32. Chapter 32

“Yuuri! I’m so happy to hear from you! Has your beau gone to worlds yet? Is that why you’re calling?” He smiled at Phichit’s enthusiastic tone. His friend had… well, he hadn’t been very impressed with Yuuri’s decisions lately, so his support meant a lot to him.

 

He hadn’t been the best of friends to Phichit, but the Thai skater had shrugged it off and told him that it simply meant that Yuuri owed him a favour – he really was so lucky to have such wonderful people in his life…

 

“He has. I sort of… I need your advice?” Phichit snickered. “Have you tried watching porn first?” “I… what?” He practically howled at the unexpected words. “Phichit! No! It’s not that! Not at all!” “In that case, ask away mon ami.” Yuuri sighed softly. “It’s just… Well, I promised Victor a reward if he wins gold.”

 

Phichit snickered. “Ha, ‘if’, good one. So?” “Well, he asked me what he’d get if he broke his records instead?” “Wow! He’s really got it bad, huh?” “Phichit! I just… don’t know what to do? Any ideas?”

 

“So you want to know what would be a good reward?” Yuuri sighed slowly. “I… yes. The problem is just… he was looking at me like that and I sort of promised him it’d be, uh, big and personal?” The silence between them rang louder than even a scream would have, until Phichit cleared his throat and spoke in a strangled voice. “Yuuri…” “I KNOW what it sounds like, Phichit! I really do! I just… that’s not going to work. I need an actual reward.”

 

“Hm… have you thought about what he would like?” “I don’t know?” Phichit clicked his tongue. “Of course you do. You LIVE with him. You have to know what he’d like. You know him better than his coach I’d imagine.”

 

Yuuri’s fingers tightened on the phone. He did, he DID know Victor that well… but other than winning that challenge and, well, Yuuri, he had no idea what… oh. The answer was right there, had been right there. Yuuri just hadn’t considered it, hadn’t let himself consider it. What he wanted… yes, there was just enough time, there would be, at the very least.

 

Oh yes, it would work, definitely.

 

“Phichit?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You are a GENIUS.”

 

“I know. Good luck.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Yuuri?”

 

“Yeah?”

  
“Please don’t call me at four am again unless it’s an actual life or death thing. I DO sleep sometimes.”


	33. Chapter 33

He really, really wasn’t sorry at all as the call ended. No, Yuuri was determined, filled with an energy that he hadn’t felt in… well, not since before he’d fallen, before his return home. The last time he’d felt like he did now had been… when he’d realised that Victor Nikiforov wanted plain little him, really genuinely wanted him.

 

It was a rush, and one he hoped would last.

 

His phone in the meantime had three more texts from Victor. ‘?’, ‘If not, that’s fine too! You don’t have to, of course! <3’ and ‘Well, I’m boarding my plane. I hope you’re well and please don’t worry… I don’t expect anything. Just having you to come back to is worth more than my weight in gold medals.’

 

Wow.

 

Yup, Yuuri’s plan was probably the best idea he’d ever had in his life.

 

He scrambled into his clothes and shoes, nearly forgetting his crutches on the way out as he petted Makka while also digging for his phone and wallet – he’d need both.

 

He’d never walked more quickly on his crutches and his ankle was practically pain-free when he reached his destination. A quick google search had found him a place, luckily in walking distance. One glance into the shop window and he KNEW, deep down in his soul that he had found the right place, that he was doing the right thing.

  
Translation-app ready, just in case, he steeled his nerves and walked in. There were no nerves this time, none of the anxiety that normally threatened to choke him if he even thought about making a ‘gesture’ towards Victor… no, all there was, was feeling… and a significant if metaphorical hole in his wallet when he left half an hour later.

 

Worth it.

 

His walk home was slower, a dull ache back in his leg… though his mind stayed quiet the whole way. It only creeped back in when his phone buzzed several hours later – Victor had landed safely and sent a photo of himself grinning next to Yakov in a cab.

 

‘Sorry for being quiet earlier, I was talking to Phichit.’ He texted quickly. ‘It’s fine <3 Is he ok?’ ‘He’s great. How are you?’ Yuuri settled on the bed with Makkachin folded into his side for comfort, the poodle happily asleep in minutes.

 

‘I’m great… better if you were here though!’ It took a minute, but another photo arrived – Victor was already at his hotel. Not just the hotel though… he was in his room. He was in the same position Yuuri was in actually, on his back in a bed.

 

Yuuri grinned.

 

He shuffled a little until his shirt was riding up and his pants were riding low in an ‘accidental’ way… then took a picture of himself, smiling innocently at the camera. He texted it quickly, a blush taking over his face as he did so. Victor’s reply took a few minutes – the first time his anxiety was back properly was waiting for that reply.

 

‘Yuuuuuuuuri… Cruel!!!! Can I come back?’ He smiled at the phone – of course, what had he expected? ‘Not without gold.’ He could imagine Victor’s smile – he loved a challenge, after all. Yuuri snickered at his own stupid joke. ‘Wardrobe on the left, blue box on the top shelf, take your pick.’

 

A little curious, Yuuri scrambled up and got said box – it was HEAVY! Inside it… well, there were gold medals. Dozens, probably. Just sitting in the box. After staring stupidly because apparently his life-long idol kept a bunch of priceless medals in a box in his wardrobe, he reached out and touched one.

 

Limply, he picked it up – Olympics. Dear god.

 

Still, he had been challenged and he didn’t back away from a challenge either – not this kind anyway. Quickly, he threw off his shirt and slipped the medal on, shivering at how WRONG it felt – it wasn’t his, he hadn’t earned it, probably never would, wasn’t deserving…

 

He pushed the thoughts away and gripped the ribbon of the medal tighter. He had a photo to take. Carefully lifting the circular gold medal, he pretended to bite down on it and mimicked Victor’s wink – it took him about eight photos before he got one he liked and he texted it to Victor immediately, before carefully slipping off the medal, wrapping it in its ribbon and setting it on top of the messy pile that actually bothered him a LOT. Who treated medals like that?

 

Putting the box back, he missed the buzz of Victor’s reply, only seeing it when he settled under the covers – so what if it was the middle of the day?

 

He couldn’t actually read Victor’s reply – it was three words, in Cyrillic. Well…

 

‘No good? ☹’ he texted back, unsure if it was a curse or compliment, he was looking at. The reply was instant.

 

‘You look so beautiful like that… makes me want to bring you another.’ ‘Not as beautiful as you. Gold suits you… you should wear it all the time.’ Pleased at his bold text, he eagerly waited for the next reply – he didn’t have to wait long, of course.

 

‘In that case, I’ll wear nothing but gold for you. 😉’ Yuuri giggled. ‘Workout ideas?’

 

His next reply was a photo again – one that showed half of Victor’s face, cheeks down, and part of his chest. His face was bright pink, his grin nearly blinding. It was a stunning photo. A regular text accompanied the photo. ‘I can’t skate with a hard-on, you know.’

 

Yuuri felt his own blush try to match Victor’s. ‘Mhh, you’ll have to do something about that, I guess?’ His phone rang seconds later. “Yuuuuuri! God, don’t tease me like that! Not when I have to head to practice… urgh, five minutes ago.”

 

“Later then.” He blurted out, without really meaning to. “Huh?” “Later… I’ll tease you… later?” Victor growled. “I’m going to be flubbing every jump today, Yuuuuuuri…” He half-moaned. Yuuri knew he was joking – was relatively sure, anyway.

 

“Well, I’ll make it up to you then?” “I’d like that VERY much.” After a moment of silence, he continued, his tone of voice changed completely, to fond concern. “How… how are you feeling? In the flat? Is it okay to be alone? Are you with Makka?”

 

Yuuri grinned. “Makkachin is fine. We’re both in bed.” Victor chuckled. “I wasn’t worried about Makka, I meant you.” Yuuri said nothing. “Okay fine, I was worried about Makka too, but I was mostly worried about you.” He still didn’t respond until Victor sighed. “Fine! I was worried about you both equally. Are you going to be taking care of each other while I’m gone?”

 

“Of course. We’ll be fine. Don’t you have to go to practice?” As if on cue, Yuuri could hear a loud bang on what he assumed to be Victor’s hotel room door. “You know, you and Yakov are becoming WAY too good of a team these days.” Victor said, his tone dry. “Maybe he likes working you as much as I do?”

 

He honestly didn’t know whether the choked off noise Victor made when he hung up was one of arousal at the idea of Yuuri working him… or one of disgust at the idea of Yakov doing it. He buried his face in Makka’s fur and laughed into her fur until tears stung the corners of his eyes.

 

He was the luckiest man alive.


	34. Chapter 34

Worlds were… well, they were exactly what everyone expected, really. Victor won gold, Chris won silver. Victor broke two of his three world records – highest score for his free skate and overall point total. Yuuri was in awe, fangirling over a Skype call with both Minako and Phichit, both of them JUST as blown-away as him – and Phichit, at least, well aware of the implications of it too.

 

Victor hadn’t texted him much during the competition – Yuuri understood. He had to train, eat sleep and compete – the fact that he texted at all was really already pretty amazing. The evening after the exhibition skate, Yuuri got an unexpected facetime call from Victor.

 

He picked up, scrambling up in bed to look at him properly. Victor looked… delicious, really, in his suit, medal gleaming on his chest. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his phone propped up somewhere.

 

“Hi, Yuuri!” “Hey, Victor. Congratulations again. I’m so proud of you.” His tone was soft, fond. Victor’s smile only brightened. “Then I accomplished my goal, I suppose. Still, it’s too bad I didn’t quite achieve what I wanted…” Yuuri blinked. “You… huh? Victor you broke TWO WORLD RECORDS!”

 

The other man shrugged, pouting a little. “Well maybe but I wanted to break all three! You’re not disappointed?”

 

Only Victor Nikiforov.

 

“Victor… I am beyond proud. I watched every minute of your performances and you did spectacularly.” The man on the other end of the call blushed and then closed his eyes for a moment. He lightly tugged on the ribbon.

 

“This one… this one feels like something.” He said. Yuuri didn’t understand what he meant, opened his mouth to ask, before Victor’s expression shut him up… the other man looked vulnerable, the force of it unexpected and almost staggering in its intensity.

 

“That’s not… stupid, is it?” He gulped softly. “I… No. it’s not. Definitely not. It’s probably… good? I think it’s good.” Truthfully, he had no idea, but it seemed to be the right answer going by the shaky smile on Victor’s face. “Yeah, I think so too. It feels like a step? Forwards? Towards my goal?” Yuuri nodded, hoping his reactions were what Victor wanted, even if he didn’t understand, not really.

 

“How… how have you been? I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet the last few days.” “Don’t be. You were busy. Makka and me have been good. We went to the park for a bit every day! I have photos for when you’re back.”

 

“That’s… thank you. Thank you for taking care of her.” ‘Thank you for taking care of me’ he barely resists blurting out in response – though true, he wasn’t about to make Victor’s moment about himself. “Is the banquet starting soon?” Victor nodded. “I’m thinking of skipping.” “Oh? Why?” Victor grinned.

 

“Well there’s no way it’ll be as good as Sochi without you there… however you ARE here in my hotel room… well, more or less anyway. It’s not even a contest.” Yuuri grinned because he’d been so busy missing Victor, he’d nearly forgotten how MUCH he’d missed Victor… and so what if that made no sense, it was how he felt.

 

Laughing, he fake-leered at the camera. “Is this where I ask you what you’re wearing?” Victor beamed back. “Armani!” “Oh, I know my next line here.” Yuuri cleared his throat before continuing in an exaggerated bedroom voice. “Looks good on you but it’d look better on my bedroom floor!”

 

To his surprise, Victor just clutched a hand over his chest and gasped. “Yuuri! This is Armani! You don’t just… this needs to be hung up, stored properly!” His shoulders shaking with laughter, Yuuri dropped his fake persona. “Well, why don’t you wear it on the way back here, and I’ll wait for you in bed. Then we’ll see where it lands, okay?”

 

Victor froze for a few seconds before pulling off his tie. “You know what, I have like three more of these. The floor is just fine.” “Makkachin can curl up on it and nap while we’re busy.” Yuuri added, wondering whether that was the tipping point for Victor – although the man flinched, he didn’t say anything about it.

 

Deciding he’d tortured Victor enough, Yuuri casually slipped off the hoodie he’d been wearing, to a sharp intake of breath from Victor. He KNEW not wearing anything else had been a good call. “Yuuuuri… it’s torture that you’re so far away.” He bit his lip nodding, because Victor was right it WAS torture… for both of them.

 

“Take off the suit for me, Vitya?”

 

The Armani suit didn’t just land on the floor it was thrown half-way across the room in seconds.

 

Yuuri made him keep the gold medal on though, because he had at LEAST a dozen fantasies that involved that exact scenario and despite everything else, he was still Victor’s fan.


	35. Chapter 35

A day before Victor was set to return, Yuuri went back to the store to pick up his now-ready purchase for Victor. The man had had to stay behind an additional day for interviews and a photoshoot – not that Yuuri was planning on pre-ordering the poster or anything – giving him time… to lose his nerve.

 

He had Victor’s itinerary, and although he’d originally planned to give him his gift right at the airport when picking him, when he was actually standing there, covered in a huge scarf (Victor’s) and keeping an eye out for familiar silver hair… he lost his confidence.

 

Naturally Victor was easy to spot, especially with the rest of the Russian team in tow, but by the time Yuuri actually spotted him, Victor was already dashing towards Yuuri, having somehow seen him first.

 

For a jarring moment he feared that Victor would just jump into his arms, but then he seemed to remember Yuuri’s crutches and drew him into a tight, nearly crushing hug instead. Yuuri couldn’t breathe but clutched onto Victor anyway. They were both mumbling something about missing each other, neither really listening and the background noise of the airport fading to a buzz.

 

By the time Victor pulled back and Yuuri actually found it within himself to let him go, the rest of the Russians had all assembled around them – Yakov’s face was expressionless, Georgi was swooning, Mila was filming and Yuri looked like something died in his mouth.

 

A little self-conscious, Yuuri blushed and nudged the box in his pocket – he’d give it to Victor later… when they were alone. Yes. That was… better.

 

Except he DIDN’T give it to Victor later – not when they shared a cab home, not when Victor fell over himself to say hello to an equally excited Makka… not when they were sitting on the couch, pressed against each other far too closely either. The box sat in his coat pocket by the door, ignored if not forgotten.

 

In fact, Yuuri was still thinking about it when Victor suddenly drew away and stood from the couch, nearly toppling Yuuri. The older man was smiling down at him as he made his way over to his suitcase and unceremoniously started digging through it, Makka glued to his side.

 

Yuuri watched, smiling fondly at Victor’s back. God, he’d missed him. When Victor came back, he was holding his medal – Yuuri saw the gold through his fingers. Victor didn’t hesitate in handing it over to Yuuri who inspected it eagerly.

 

“I’m so proud of you, for this. Your performances were amazing.” He’d said it before, had congratulated him before, but he hoped his face conveyed just how deeply he meant those words as he looked up at Victor who had his back to the windows – it was hard to make out his expression like that, but Yuuri hoped he was happy.

 

After a moment of silence, Victor settled his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and pushed him back against the backrest of the couch before slowly climbing into his lap, giving him every chance to refuse or pull away.

 

Fat chance.

 

He shifted his legs to let Victor settle, the position eerily reminiscent of the time they did the very same thing in the tub in Sochi… Yuuri’s free hand gripped Victor’s hip as the other one still held the medal.

 

A lot had happened since then… a lot and not enough.

 

Yuuri trailed a finger of the hand he was holding the medal with up Victor’s chest until it rested at the base of his throat. The older man wordlessly arched his back, letting Yuuri touch him however he wanted… releasing his hip, he unfurled the ribbon.

 

“Let me put this on you?” He quietly requested, pleased when Victor hummed and bent down far enough for Yuuri to be able to put it on him. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised but seeing it, seeing Victor lit up by the afternoon light, the medal visible even against the light… the man looked ethereal.

 

Yuuri WANTED him.

 

His fingers curled into the ribbon of their own accord, and yanked, yanked him down with a gasp, their lips meeting in a frantic kiss that belied the calmness that had been between them moments ago. Yuuri’s free hand settled on Victor’s lower back, both of Victor’s wrapped around his shoulders, their mouths moving together frantically.

 

Yuuri pulled back first, unable to breathe, his skin on fire from arousal. “Finally…” Victor whispered as he pressed kisses to Yuuri’s cheek while the other man caught his breath. “Finally… what?” “I get to kiss you again. You have no idea how much I missed you…”

 

Victor nibbled along his jawline, Yuuri shuddering helplessly under the ministrations. “Hm, not half as much as I missed you.” Victor smiled against his skin, he could feel it. “Nonsense. I missed you more.” “Not possible.”

 

Chuckling, Victor pulled back. “Are we really doing this?”

 

“You mean are we having an extremely sappy fight over who missed who more? You bet.” Victor laughed and shifted his legs apart further, his body even closer to Yuuri now. Of course – Victor HAD to be flexible.

 

Yuuri tugged him closer still until they were pressed together almost from hip to chest. It was wonderful, of course.

 

“Yuuri… there is something I want to say? About… the challenge?” He nodded, distracted by the way Victor’s breath came just a little too quickly, a little too short. “I feel like… I’ve made progress on it. A lot of progress, I think. I… realised a few things at worlds. It really helped.”

 

He smiled up at the other, both hands rubbing gentle circles on his sides, more comfort than arousal now. “That’s good, isn’t it?” Victor nodded eagerly. “I was… I was wondering, if… if you’d be willing to… do a little more than we have so far? Not… not sex, but something?”

 

He’d reached up and yanked Victor down by the back of his head before the other man had a chance to react, his kiss rough as he not-so-gently bit down on Victor’s bottom lip, the older man moaning quietly against him.

 

Yes, so, so much yes.

 

Victor didn’t draw away, started almost rubbing himself against Yuuri actually. It was divine… but Yuuri still knew that there were a few things they needed to discuss before he forgot what words were entirely.

 

He pulled back, nearly giving in to his desires when Victor pouted as he did so. “What… what did you have in mind?” He forced himself to ask. “In… mind?” The Russian asked, his accent stronger than usual.

 

“You said more but not sex. What were you thinking of?” Victor blinked down at him before licking his lips. “That’s… I was thinking… bedroom?” Yes, bedroom sounded good. His hands snapped down to Victor’s hips, intending to lift him – he knew he could – when gentle hands stopped him, and Victor stood.

 

“Be careful, Yuuri. You can’t lift me with that ankle of yours.” He’d… forgotten. Blushing a little, he stood as well, following behind Victor. “So… does that mean I can when I’m healed?” The look Victor shot him over his shoulder was positively filthy and suddenly his limp was growing decidedly more pronounced.

 

The click of the bedroom door behind them both felt a little like a new chapter in a book… and Yuuri couldn’t wait for their story to continue.


	36. Chapter 36

The small smile Victor gave him when their eyes met reminded him less of the usual Victor and more of, well, himself. It was adorable and it calmed the frantic beating of his heart, at least somewhat.

Victor drew him into a hug – just a hug, his cheek pressed to Yuuri’s head.

“Yuuri Katsuki… I still can’t believe you’re here, that I can come home to you right now.” Yuuri’s hands clutched Victor tighter – what was he supposed to say? HE was the lucky one, not Victor!

“I was… thinking… maybe we could do it like with the video calls? Except without… the video?” Yuuri shivered – he’d never… wow. Desire surged through him again, his flagging erection coming back with a vengeance. Victor felt it of course, with how close they were pressed together… but if the way he pressed against Yuuri was anything to go by, he didn’t mind.

Eventually, Yuuri drew back, hoping his flush was less visible than it felt.

“You… you sit on the bed?” Yuuri requested, seating himself on the armchair in the far corner of the room. Victor didn’t hesitate before crawling to the middle of the bed and sitting down, his legs spread, eyes trained on Yuuri.

He was almost as nervous as he was aroused when Victor shot him a mischievous wink, his fingers trailing over his own chest, over the thin shirt he was wearing. Oh.

Yuuri’s fingers twitched to touch himself too… but he wasn’t quite ready yet. He watched as Victor’s hands explored his body the way he had wanted to for so long… and eventually would, he swore to himself.

One of Victor’s hands flicked over his nipple, making him shiver, and Yuuri with him. Mouth suddenly dry, Yuuri gulped. “Take off your shirt.” he all but ordered. If Victor was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply scrambled out of the shirt, chucking it from the bed, his hands caressing bare flesh now.

“You’re so beautiful, Vitya.” He half-mumbled, not quite believing what he was seeing. Victor had been stunning before, but he was positively devastating that way. Blue eyes were half-closed, his lower lip a little swollen... swollen because YUURI had bitten down on it. God he wanted that man so badly. “Yuuri… I want to… I just…” He nodded, eagerly.

“Yeah, go on. I want to see.” Victor smiled, a shaky smile before one his hands slid lower almost teasingly slowly. “Yuuri… talk to me, please? I need…” Yuuri shivered at his words. Talk to him? That wasn’t like him, not at all.

But… it was Victor, and if he wanted it… he could be brave, just for a little. “What do you want me to say, Victor? That I’d touch you if I could?” Victor nodded, sliding lower on the bed. “What would you… do?” Yuuri sighed. What indeed. “I’d want to start slowly. Take off your clothes properly. Touch you. Learn every inch of your skin.”

Victor’s hand dipped under the waistband of his trousers, started moving, a slow rhythm, hypnotising much as it was mostly hidden by his trousers. “More, Yuuri, please!” “I’ve had this… fantasy, a few times. Would you like me to tell you?” “Yes, yes, yes, so much!”

Yuuri shivered at his eagerness, at his own arousal, his fingers sliding down to cup himself. “I’d love to have you on your knees for me, have your gorgeous mouth on me. Would you do that for me, Vitya?” The man’s hand sped up, his movements rougher. “You know I would, Yuuri. I’d love that, oh god.” 

His own fingers inching past the hem of his pants, he found himself tongue-tied, suddenly. There was… more of course, but the words were starting to fail him. “What about you, Victor? What do you want?”

The other man moaned. “I want… I want so badly, for you to bend me over something, anything and take me, fuck me until I can’t skate the next day. Not the day after, either, maybe.” Yuuri groaned, unable to restrain his voice. Sure, Victor had sort of implied he liked to bottom several times before, but he hadn’t thought the older man would be quite so… forward about it. Yuuri had to know more.

“Is that how you like it? Being taken?” Victor cried out a little, his arm stuttering for a moment before his second hand dipped under the hem of his pants as well, both of them taking on a fast rhythm, legs spreading further and oh god. Yuuri had to press down on himself, to stop himself from coming at the sight alone, his hand gently fisting his own erection.

“I can… go either way. But sometimes, you’re so forceful… what… how do you like it best?” The other man whimpered at his own words, his eyes slipping closed. Yuuri grimaced briefly, unsure how to answer.

“I’m pretty sure I’d just like you, any way you’d want it, Victor.” He replied, evading the answer. “Yuuri...” Victor half-sobbed. Yuuri’s mind was giving him too many options, too many fantasies. Eventually, one of them took centre stage. Not one he had often but… a good one. His fingers squeezed himself harder, his rhythm almost matching Victor’s.

“I think I’d want to be on my back, having you ride me, taking your own pleasure from me. You like being on top of the podium, right? Would that feel good for you?” Victor nodded, both hands speeding up considerably. Yuuri desperately wished he wasn’t wearing his pants because he wanted to see, dammit.

He did his best not to think of it too much, not to think about how Victor was practically fucking up into his hands with every stroke. It was… almost too much. “That, Yuuri, I want that, oh god…” Somehow, Yuuri could tell, could tell that he was close, wanted nothing more than to fall over that edge.

Yuuri licked his lips. “I liked what you said earlier too. About bending you over. You’re so flexible, aren’t you? I could bend you over the edge of the rink after practice, couldn’t I? You’d be warm, tired, sweaty… I could take you just like that, then and there.”

Victor screamed, there was no other word for it. Yuuri watched in fascination as he arched his back, both hands losing their rhythm, one stilling the other stroking him a few more times before withdrawing a little gingerly. Yuuri didn’t miss the milky liquid on his hand as the other man moaned quietly, his eyes fluttering open again, seemingly even bluer than before.

“Yuuri that was… have you already?” He quickly shook his head. He had, nearly, but he’d been so distracted by Victor… The man turned over, crawled to the edge of the bed, closing most of the distance between them.

“Oh god, Yuuri please, I want to see it. Want to see you come. I’d let you take me at the rink, fuck, I’d let you fuck me over the Grand Prix podium if you wanted that. I’d ride you too, any way you wanted. How… how would you like it? Fast?”

He shook his head, despite how his hand sped up and tightened. “No, I’d want it… slow. Hard, slow. I’d want to see the pleasure on your face, see you come apart on me. Oh god, Victor…” He broke off with another moan, only half-aware that the other man had leaned closer still, was practically panting.

“Please, Yuuri, come for me, okay? I want to see it, so much.” One more stroke was all it took before he came, eyes closed and moaning Victor’s name. It took him a long time to come down from his high, before he could open his eyes again, fingers still curled in on himself.

Victor looked… hungry, was the best word he had for it. The other man was staring at him so directly, it didn’t feel like they were separated by half a room. He shivered. “Yuuri… that was…” He sat up a little straighter, carelessly wiping his fingers on his pants.

“Was it… okay?” “I can’t believe you have to ASK! It was amazing!” Yuuri chuckled weakly. “That’s… good? I suppose we… like the same things?” Victor grinned. “As if there was any doubt of that!”

A slightly awkward moment passed between them, then Victor smiled softly. “I suppose this would be a good time to ask if you, uh cuddle?” He laughed awkwardly, pink high on his cheeks. “I’d love to. Just… let me change and wash hands?”

Yuuri’s legs were a little weak as he stood and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of sweats on the way there.

What even was his life?


	37. Chapter 37

Ten minutes later, he was all cleaned up and wrapped up in bed with an equally cleaned up Victor. They were laying chest to chest, Victor’s head tucked under Yuuri’s chin, his arms around his waist, Yuuri’s around his shoulder and playing with his hair.

It was domestic, and Yuuri was pretty sure he liked it more than he had what they had done before – not that that WASN’T one of the top ten experiences of his life. Sliding his hand up and down Victor’s shirtless back, he enjoyed the sensation of silky skin as much as the feeling of silver hair in his other hand.

“Yuuri?” “Hm?” “That was quite the experience, wasn’t it?” “Mhm.” “I’m glad you’re a cuddler. Are you always or am I special?” Yuuri stiffened a little. “…No comment.” He didn’t miss Victor’s huff against his chest, but for once the older man let it go, didn’t prod, didn’t push. 

He had no idea how long they laid there like that… however soon enough, Yuuri’s thoughts wandered back to his reward for Victor’s gold. The medal itself… it laid discarded with the shirt, somewhere on the bedroom floor. “Vitya?” “Hm?” “About your reward… for breaking those records…” The other man chuckled. “I loved it. So much.”

“Loved… but I haven’t given you it yet?” Yuuri pulled back enough to let Victor glance up at him, confusion written in the man’s blue eyes. “You mean… just now that wasn’t…?” Yuuri snorted. “No, no it wasn’t.” “Oh! I thought…” His fingers tightened in Victor’s hair.

“You thought I did that… for you? Because you won? No, I did that because I want you. The reward…it’s in my coat pocket, actually. I wanted to give it to you at the airport, but I got nervous.” Strong arms squeezed him tighter, pulled him closer to Victor, his heart soaring a bit at the contact… and then Victor was gone, off the bed and out the bedroom door before Yuuri could so much as blink.

The bastard.

Yuuri scrambled after him, getting tangled in the sheets so that he tumbled face first out of the bed, had to fight to free himself, half-weak with terror that Victor might open the box and see it, and half-excited because if he DID, then Yuuri wouldn’t have to find the courage to do it himself.

He was panting by the time he’d freed himself from the bedding, well aware that if Victor wanted to, he could well be in a cab to somewhere else already, nevermind Yuuri and his stupid ankle. Gulping, he stumbled the last few steps through the living area only to find his wildest dreams and worst nightmares true at once.

Victor was standing next to the coat-rack, Yuuri’s coat crumpled on the floor. Pale fingers were clutching a purple velvet box – the box alone had cost Yuuri nearly 50 American dollars. The box was open, its contents bared to Victor’s eyes…

Victor’s eyes that were brimming with tears, his free hand clasped over his mouth.

Yuuri approached carefully, entirely unsure what to make of the reaction he was seeing, whether it was horror, dread, happiness, excitement… for all he knew, Victor was hungry. His lips twitched a little, only his fear of a negative reaction stopping him from smiling.

He reached out gently and took the box from Victor’s fingers to inspect its contents, the way he’d done at least a hundred times since he’d picked it up at the jewellers.

Two perfect gold bands sat on a bed of snow-white silk, precisely how he remembered it. Victor didn’t fight him for the box, his eyes simply following it as Yuuri took it, his expression never changing at all.

“…Vitya?”

For a long moment, no reaction came at all, Victor simply standing there, like a pillar of ice. Yuuri’s worries only worsened the longer that went on… then Victor slowly, trembling, stretched out his right hand towards Yuuri.

It was his turn to stand stock-still, his eyes glued to the trembling fingers before him. “V-Vitya?”

Finally, Victor’s hand fell from his mouth, his expression almost pained. “Aren’t you… going to put it on me?” He asked, his voice choked off. Yuuri felt a weight drop from his shoulders as he fumbled for the larger of the two rings. “Of course I am but that’s… that’s… the wrong hand?” Victor sobbed quietly. “N-Not in Russia. It’s… supposed to be the right one.”

Yuuri grasped Victor’s hand, his own fingers trembling nearly as much as Victor’s, and slid the ring onto his ring finger. It fit perfectly – he’d made sure to get the sizing just right by comparing to some of the assorted jewellery lying around the flat. He almost couldn’t let go, his fingers tightening on the ring as it slid in place with ease.

Victor didn’t pull away either, instead, he plucked the other ring from the box still in Yuuri’s hand and reached for Yuuri’s right hand. Finally forced to let go, he watched as trembling fingers slid the second gold band onto his finger, the cool metal settling there as if it belonged, as if it had always been there.

The older skater didn’t seem to want to let go either, his hand clasping Yuuri’s as they both stared down at their hands, identical gold bands glittering there, a perfect match. In the end, it was Victor that broke their reverie, by tackling Yuuri. He had the good sense to keep his ankle clear and up, even as Victor crashed into him and took him down. The impact hurt, a hard landing, except that Victor’s left hand cradled his head, protecting him from banging it on the floor.

Most of his body hurt. Yuuri had never been happier as Victor kissed him.

They’d kissed dozens of times already, probably more, except this kiss felt new, felt different as they explored each other’s mouths, the unmistakable taste of tears – from both of them – giving it a salty taste.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Makka came to investigate what her humans were doing playing on the floor.


	38. Chapter 38

Waking up the next morning didn’t feel quite real to Yuuri – he was on his back, an arm heavy over his chest, a small weight on the fourth finger of his right hand, rays of morning sun tickling his nose through the window. Makka was asleep between his feet, her head resting on his knee, Victor curled against his side.

Awkwardly, he fished for his phone and texted Phichit a summary of how things had gone – he’d flat-out forgotten the day before, too caught up in kisses, embraces, and tears. Neither of them had said much at all, emotion seemingly choking them both… and that had been just fine.

Yuuri wasn’t always the best with his words and Victor could be overly blunt at times… no, the silence coupled with the language they spoke perfectly – touch – had been perfection. Pulling his leg over Makkachin, he rolled towards Victor and pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder – not enough to wake him.

Hm. 

He kissed him again, gently trailing down his chest until his nose brushed past Victor’s pale nipple – neither of them had worn shirts to bed and Yuuri had quickly discovered he liked it that way. Nosing a little lower, he kept kissing the soft skin of the man before him, tongue teasingly swirling around Victor’s navel as he did so.

He noticed something peculiar – Victor wasn’t breathing.

Peeking up, he found one blue eye half-open, peering down at him… and snapping shut as soon as their gazes met. “Vitya… how long have you been awake?” He mumbled as he gently nibbled a path back up the other’s chest.

“Mh… half an hour.” “Half… you’ve been awake that long? Why haven’t you gotten up?” Victor giggled when Yuuri’s eyelashes brushed a sculpted pectoral. “I was too comfortable. Ah, don’t stop?” Yuuri let his fingers take over exploring Victor’s body as he straightened up to press their mouths together in a gentle kiss, lips closed – a good morning, nothing else.

“Do you have training today?” “No. I get time off after record-breaking performances.” Victor said, more than a little smug, though his breath hitched when Yuuri’s fingers teased at the hem of his pants. Not a barrier to cross just yet… but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything else to be done.

Yuuri pressed a biting kiss to Victor’s collarbone, pleased that they could sleep in for once… not that either of them wanted to sleep if the hardness pressed against his thigh was anything to go by. Another few kisses later, Yuuri bit down a little less gently, causing Victor to groan.

The older skater whistled quickly and gave a command in Russian – Makka hopped off the bed immediately and darted out of the bedroom. Before Yuuri had time to process, Victor had already rolled him so that he was above Yuuri, pinning his wrists to the bed and grinning down smugly from above.

“Hi…” Yuuri greeted, feeling oddly shy for a moment. Victor’s smug grin melted into a delighted smile. “Hi yourself. How are you feeling? Your ankle?” Yuuri wrinkled his nose, pretending to think about it as he planned his next move.

“Ah, it’s pretty okay. Actually it’s more my wrists that hurt?” He rolled his hands a little, pretending to wince in pain. Victor’s eyes widened immediately, and he leaned away to take his weight off Yuuri’s wrists… and that was all Yuuri needed.

Bending up, he wrapped his legs around Victor’s waist and flipped them again, putting himself on top. He landed a little harshly, straddling Victor’s stomach, but the other man didn’t look like he minded – not going by his cat-ate-the-canary expression anyway.

“Yuuri! So sneaky!” The younger man fake-pouted at Victor. “What choice did I have?” Hands gently trailed up his arms until they rested on his shoulders. “You could have just asked… you know I’d give you anything you wanted right?”

Yuuri snorted quietly. “Well, almost anything, isn’t that right?” For a moment, Victor’s face was entirely blank before understanding and something like embarrassment coloured his features in a lovely shade of light pink. “Mh, anything. I told you. If… if that’s what you wa-” Yuuri shushed him by placing a finger on his lips.

“It’s not. I mean it is, but I want you to be happy more than I want… sex. So, I can wait. I wasn’t complaining, just… teasing.” After hesitating for a second, he leaned down and replaced his finger on Victor’s lips with his own. Victor hummed into the chaste kiss and practically flattened Yuuri against him.

He mumbled something in Russian, just a few words, before flipping them again so they were both on their sides, cuddled together.

Yuuri didn’t even try to fight it when his eyes drifted shut in the comfort of Victor’s arms.

They were late for practice that day.


	39. Chapter 39

Yuuri made excuses to Yakov, Victor just grinned and winked when the others asked why they were late. Naturally, Yuri called him a perverted old man and Mila wolf-whistled at him… all the while Yuuri did his best to fade into his customary chair.

 

He wasn’t sure if he’d be more or less embarrassed if the implications were true – if he and Victor really were sleeping together. The thought was enough to distract him a little, every now and again – thankfully nobody seemed to notice… other than Victor. Who winked at him. A lot.

 

When he started blowing kisses after lunch, Yuuri casually suggested to Yakov that it might benefit him to skate suicides for a while… clearly, Yakov had been annoyed by Victor anyway, because he didn’t even question the idea and instead just yelled it across the rink to a crest-fallen Victor… and then extended it to the snickering Yuri who, in Yuuri’s opinion, didn’t deserve it at all.

 

Before they left for home that afternoon, Yakov stiffly shook Yuuri’s hand and congratulated Yuuri – he had nearly forgotten about the rings, to busy with training and, well, Victor. Yuuri’s eyes had stolen to his ring as often as they had to his stunning eyes, fingers playing with his own all the while.

 

Yakov’s congratulations were stiff, but he seemed genuine enough when he shook Yuuri’s hand and yelled at Victor to stop slacking off so much. It was… interesting, to say the least. None of the other skaters commented – at least not to Yuuri – but he didn’t mind.

 

Victor Nikiforov was wearing his ring, and proudly so (Yuuri had seen the DOZENS of ‘subtle’ Instagram photos featuring it that had appeared in less than a day). He was walking on air, almost literally – sure his ankle was still hurting and it would be a long while before he could get back to skating but… Victor Nikiforov was wearing his ring.

 

He blamed it on his stupid infatuation that he couldn’t stop noticing just how much the metal seemed to, well, sparkle on Victor’s finger. It felt like he could always see it, just in the corner of his eye, whether Victor was sipping tea on his couch, doing his stretches by the side of the rink or awkwardly fishing out however many socks Makka had stuffed under the bed that afternoon.

 

It was a rush every single time, and it was nothing compared to the feeling of taking Victor’s hand and feeling the warmed metal brush against his skin, of squeezing Victor’s fingers and feeling the hard edges against his own hand.

 

Victor, of course, indulged him whenever he wanted, happy to touch and be touched.

 

Yes, Yuuri was walking on air and it wasn’t until his next doctor’s check-up that he dropped back to the ground, and quite harshly so. He was recovering… but not as quickly as he was supposed to. In fact, though he hadn’t gotten worse per se, he really hadn’t improved since his pre-worlds check-up.

 

Yuuri thought back to all the near-misses, the almost-strains, the falls, the bumps of his foot against things and fought back tears. The doctor advised him to use crutches again, and to go easier on his ankle than he had been.

 

The cab ride home – Victor by his side of course, was deathly quiet, so quiet that Yuuri could hear the ticking of the wristwatch the driver wore… the sound nearly drove him out of his mind with tension and nervousness. Sadly, being back home in Victor’s flat… wasn’t any better.

 

He hardly listened when Victor told him he should probably stay away from the rink for a few days, too busy being curled up on the couch, face buried into a pillow. When Victor was gone, he allowed himself his tears, comforted by a whining Makkachin. Why wasn’t he allowed good things? Why did negative things always follow on the heels of positive things?

 

It didn’t feel fair, not at all.

 

Yuuri eventually moved to the bed with Makka, deciding he might as well be comfortable while wallowing in self-pity. If the poodle was judging him, and he suspected she was, she had the good grace to at least not stare at him in that odd way that dogs sometimes do.

 

Buried under both blankets and with all the pillows plus Makkachin arranged around himself, Yuuri waited. He wasn’t sure for what – it wasn’t Victor’s return, it wasn’t anything specific, but it felt like he was… waiting. For something.

 

When, hours later, a hand settled between his shoulder-blades, he didn’t even twitch – he hadn’t heard Victor get home, but it made very little difference that he had, really. Only a sweet smell that tickled his nose made him decide to turn around to face his childhood idol.

 

Victor was wearing the softest expression – not pity, thankfully – as he looked down at Yuuri. In his hands… it was hot chocolate. With whipped cream and polar bear marshmallows on it. He felt tears sting in his eyes again. “How…”  


“I took a cab there after practice and had them make some in a thermos for me. I put it together in our kitchen. Do you… want it?” With shaky fingers, he reached for the mug and spoon that Victor held out to him, clumsily picking a marshmallow bear off the cream with his bare hand and eating it.

 

Delicious.

 

“Yuuri… I need to apologise to you.” “Apologise?” His tired mind didn’t even bother coming up horrendous scenarios for what that might be about – Yuuri was self-aware to know that for once, that was probably not a good thing. He sighed against the edge of the mug.

 

“Yes. The reason you’re not better… it’s mostly me, isn’t it? I keep jostling your ankle. I mean, I knocked you to the ground and I KNOW I kick in my sleep, and then I’m the one who left that hoodie laying around when you tripped over it-”

 

He pressed a marshmallow against Victor’s lips, pleased when the older man ate it and stopped talking. “I don’t blame you. I mean, yes, being knocked over hurt but I was so HAPPY that you did it… I… it’s not you, it’s me. I haven’t been as careful. Lately, I’ve just been so happy, I sort of forgot about it, sometimes. It’s… my own fault.”

 

“You’re not angry with me.” It wasn’t a question, but Yuuri shook his head anyway before sipping his hot chocolate – it was delicious, just like last time. “Why would I be angry? I mean, I am, but not at you. I… want to skate again. I really do. But now I’ve probably delayed that by being careless.”

 

“You haven’t delayed anything, you are already weeks ahead of where you should be, remember?” Victor’s comforting words did little to ease the pit in his stomach. “Is that so? It doesn’t feel like it.” The Russian grinned. “I know the feeling, trust me. When I was hurt and recovering… I did some stupid things. A few weeks after the injury I tried to do squats even though I wasn’t even allowed light strain on my knee. I toppled over and was in so much pain I almost thought I’d need more surgery. In the end, all I got was a scolding from the doctor and one from Yakov.”

 

He paused, before shrugging. “I was alone. I felt so numb that… well, I couldn’t skate. Even pain seemed better than THAT feeling.” Yuuri sighed softly, and reached for Victor’s hand for the first time in what felt like forever – had it really only been a day? “But I’m not alone. And now… neither are you.”

 

Victor took a deep breath. “That’s right. Neither of us are alone now… and if you can’t skate, I’ll skate for you. I’ve told you, haven’t I?” Yuuri watched as slowly, a tear dripped onto the hand he was holding his mug with. “I know. I’m grateful. I just… it doesn’t feel right. I mean, my ankle feels like it should be better, better than it is. Why isn’t it?”

 

Victor didn’t answer, but Yuuri hadn’t expected one anyway – holding Victor’s hand and drinking his hot chocolate, he had to accept that ignoring the low thrum of pain in his leg didn’t mean it wasn’t there.


	40. Chapter 40

The next morning, when Yuuri woke up in bed alone, he felt a little disoriented. Normally, he woke up when Victor got up, or on rare occasions even before him. Not this time though – the other side of the bed was still warm, so at least the other man hadn’t been gone long.

He stretched out, immediately aware of the twinge in his ankle. He felt it more now, it was more painful, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of how he had been ignoring it before, or because he now knew it wasn’t healing like it should.

He wasn’t even sure if it mattered, staring at the limb when the bedroom door swung open slowly, to reveal Victor, dressed in an old tracksuit and looking unfairly good that way. In his arms… a tray.

“Good morning, Yuuri. I made you breakfast.” He set the tray down in Yuuri’s lap before he could so much as return the greeting. “Victor?” “Hm?” The older man settled on the edge of the bed as Yuuri stared down at the food before him – fried eggs, steamed spinach, French toast and a cup of Japanese green tea.

“I…thank you?” Victor pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Any time. I need to leave soon. Will you be okay on your own?” He nodded slowly, unsure it was the truth, but more and more convinced that it could be.

He watched mutely as Victor changed into his normal training outfit, beautiful body on display. He didn’t tease though, didn’t flirt, just got dressed and ready to leave. Yuuri was grateful – he wasn’t in the mood for Victor’s flirtatious nature, not really.

The breakfast was delicious, of course – he wasn’t surprised.

He was a LITTLE surprised to find that in his quest to feed Yuuri, Victor had taken apart most of his kitchen and left an unreasonable number of dishes to be done – what had he even needed FOUR pans for? Still, Yuuri did the dishes.

Spent most of the day on them, actually, alternating between washing a few things, sitting down to rest his ankle, drying things off and putting them away… and petting Makka. He wasn’t a monster. Still, he couldn’t help it – by the end of the day… well, he felt trapped again, reminded of the days he spent in the flat with nowhere to go.

Victor seemed oblivious of this when he came back – he was in a good mood, told Yuuri how well his quads were going, even though he was powering down for off-season and only had a few exhibitions left before spring/summer break.

Yuuri was happy for him, of course he was… but he could also sense himself getting snappier and snappier as a few more days passed. In his defence, Victor hardly twitched at it, bore most of it with a smile, or even a sigh… and that almost made it worse for Yuuri. It wasn’t that he WANTED to fight, of course, but Victor’s quiet acceptance of what Yuuri knew to be unfair behaviour… he hated it, he really did.

He wanted to be better, for Victor, for himself. He didn’t want to be angry, or anxious… but he didn’t know how to make it stop either.

It was maddening.


	41. Chapter 41

As these things are wont to do, the situation eventually boiled over because of a small thing – a tiny thing even. Yuuri was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine – a few Japanese ones had quietly started appearing on Victor’s couch table a few days ago. Clearly the man had no idea what they were about when he bought them, but Yuuri didn’t mind reading about healing stones and spirituality if it meant getting to read in Japanese.

 

It was time to walk Makka, and when Victor said so, Yuuri made to get up off the couch, only for Victor to wave him off and tell him to stay put, that he’d walk her alone.

 

Something that had sat taut in his chest for a while just… gave.

 

“I’m not DISABLED.” He snarled at Victor who froze, mid-step, hand raised to reach for Makka’s leash a few steps from the couch. “I… Yuuri?” “STOP treating me like an invalid, Victor, I’m SICK of it!”

 

The Russian dropped his hand and slowly turned to face Yuuri properly. “I… wasn’t? I was just suggesting that I’ll walk her alone since you look comfortable there and the weather is miserable outside.”

  
Yuuri hadn’t even noticed that it was essentially sleeting outside. It really made no difference. “It’s not just that! I’m cooped up in here AGAIN! I know my ankle is hurt and I know you’re trying to be considerate but it’s driving me MAD! You’ve barely even kissed me the last few days!”

 

If he’d been any less upset, he’d have probably been embarrassed by his outburst, but as it was, he was just… raw. “Yuuri… I was just… I want to be careful with you. I feel like if I kiss you, things could get heated again and if you injure yourself… it’s not worth it.”

 

No, it wasn’t worth it. “That’s not just YOUR decision, is it? I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself. I don’t need coddling and I don’t want to be stuck here all day!” Victor huffed. “Alright fine, nobody is forcing you to. Do you want to come with me then?” Yuuri’s fingers tightened on his magazine. “Is that all you have to say?”

 

Victor shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m only trying to look out for you. I don’t… want to make you uncomfortable and I’m not trying to keep you here against your will. If you want to go out, come with me.”

 

“That’s NOT what this is about!” Yuuri snapped back immediately. “Fine, then what IS it about?” He slammed down the magazine. “It’s about YOU! It’s about this stupid flat, the stupid weather, my stupid ankle and these STUPID magazines!” Victor blinked at the magazine in question.

 

“You don’t like them?” “No, Victor, I don’t CARE about healing crystals and whatnot!” He only realised he’d crossed the line to outright yelling when silence rang through the flat after his words. A shiver passed through him – what was WRONG with him?

 

Victor’s expression darkened and he whistled. “I’m taking Makka for her walk. Think about what you want while I’m gone, and we can talk about it when I’m back.” Yuuri laughed harshly. “What if what I want is to go home?” Victor gave him a long, unreadable look over his shoulder. “If… that’s what you want, you know I’ll support you. I’ll see you later.”

 

The soft click of the door closing sounded almost painfully loud.

 

Yuuri sank lower on the couch, burrowing his face into the back of the sofa – what was he doing, and why was he taking it out on Victor? It wasn’t fair. Yuuri DIDN’T want to go home, he loved being in Russia, with Victor.

 

Sniffling into the pillow of the couch, he stayed put until he heard the door open an eternity later – Victor was back. The man whispered something to Makka and she trotted off towards the bedroom… then quiet steps approached the couch. Yuuri held still, frozen though not sure why. A gentle hand reached down, and fingers sifted through his hair – Victor whispered something else in Russian, and then he too, was headed towards the bedroom.

 

Clearly, the older skater had thought he was asleep… but what was going on, exactly?

 

Yuuri waited a few minutes before unfurling from the couch and carefully padding to the bedroom. Victor was sitting on the bed, tapping away on his phone until he noticed Yuuri and immediately put it down.

 

There was a strange sort of guard around Victor’s smile – something more like the media smile he usually gave in public. The realisation hit Yuuri like a truck – he’d hurt Victor, really hurt the other man.

 

Oh.

 

He had to fix that, and pronto.


	42. Chapter 42

Too bad he had no idea whatsoever on how to do that, frozen in the door as he was. Victor casually patted the bed by his side and, as if moving through jelly, Yuuri slowly approached and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

“Have you… thought about what you want?” Victor asked, his voice almost devoid of emotion – fake. Yuuri could tell. “I have. I just want to say… I’m really sorry, Victor.” The older man’s face twisted into a scowl for a moment, before the fake smile returned. “No, I, that’s fine. You don’t owe me an explanation. I’ve already looked and if you tell me when you want to go, I’ll book you a flight home as soon as I can.”

 

“A… what? A flight? Victor, I don’t want to go home!” “What? But then, what were you apologising for? I thought it was because you wanted to leave!” He could almost hear the ‘leave me’ that Victor clearly meant to say. Relief flashed through him at the sight before him, though – Victor’s expression was one of confusion, and that was better than that fake something he’d seen.

 

“I was apologising for how I treated you. I was rude, and it was uncalled for and you’ve been nothing but lovely to me. I’m so sorry.” Victor motioned for him to come closer and Yuuri awkwardly climbed onto the bed, letting himself be moved when Victor reached for his shoulders and pulled.

 

He ended up with his head on Victor’s lap, looking up at the man’s face, one hand buried in Yuuri’s hair and one pressed against his elbow. Yuuri’s arms laid uselessly by his side – he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing with them.

 

“Oh Yuuri… you don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad.” “What? Of course you are, you should be, you have to be! How could you NOT be mad?” Victor grinned and his fingers brushed through Yuuri’s hair a little more forcefully. “I’m not mad because I get it. I’ve been where you are. You’re… angry, right? At nothing at all? You feel trapped and you want to lash out, want a vent for those feelings.”

 

Yuuri opened his mouth to deny it but found he couldn’t – Victor was right… scarily so.

 

“You know from… from when you got hurt?” Victor shrugged. “In part. More importantly, though, it doesn’t bother me. If you want to use me to make yourself feel better. I can deal with you snapping at me for a bit.”

 

Yuuri rolled towards Victor, curling himself closer against the man and burying his face in his stomach. “You shouldn’t deal with it. Please, when I’m like that, just… tell me? Bite back? I don’t want you to put up with things for me.”

 

“Yuuri… I want to help you, want to make you better. If putting up with a little snark is the way to go…” Yuuri shuffled even closer, pressing himself against Victor. “No! Please, don’t. That’s not healthy and I want… I want you to be happy, okay? Promise me, please.”

 

He looked up at Victor, puzzled for a few moments by the emotions flashing through those blue eyes. “Yuuri… I promise. And I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing too.” A gentle hand ran through Yuuri’s hair and he allowed himself a small smile, tentatively returned by the other.

 

“So… we’re okay?”

 

“We’ll be fine, Yuuri.”


	43. Chapter 43

They sat in silence for a while, Yuuri comfortably curled up against Victor, the older man gently touching his shoulders, his hair. It was intimate… and it reminded Yuuri of the other thing he meant to discuss with Victor.

“Vitya?”

“Mh?” “About… about you not… well, you know you don’t have to hold back because of my ankle, right? I’m not made of glass. I’ll be more careful, but you don’t have to worry about hurting me.” Victor sighed softly. “I’m scared of hurting you again, Yuuri. I know you fell out of bed when I found the rings. I know that when we kiss… well, I…”

The older man broke off and cleared his throat, making Yuuri shift until he could look at him properly. Victor was blushing. He waited for him to continue. “When we… I get selfish when it comes to pleasure. More interested in feeling good, in making you feel good than in paying attention to your injury. Half the time I just want to pick you up and throw you into bed.”

Yuuri sighed softly. “That’s… honestly, if I could walk normally I’d be the one throwing YOU into bed. I get it, I really do, but you’ve never hurt me. There’s not… don’t let THAT come between us? I mean if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but…”

A firm hand covered his mouth mid-sentence, accompanied by a stern look. “Don’t want to? I always want to. Yuuri, surely at this point you can’t still doubt that? I broke a world record because of how badly I wanted you.”

Yuuri grinned under Victor’s fingers. The older man had a point. He DIDN’T doubt it anymore, the ring pressing against his lips proved it well enough, but… He gently lifted away Victor’s hand. “Wanting me, in general, doesn’t mean that you want me all the time. I just meant… be yourself? Don’t hold back on my account, and don’t force yourself either.”

Victor curled his hand against Yuuri’s, his expression one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen on the man.

“Maybe we can find common ground. I’ll be as careful with your ankle as I can, but without holding myself back completely?” Yuuri nodded lightly. “That sounds good. Victor… I want you, but I need to skate again.”

“I know. I’d never take that away from you.”

The comfortable silence between them felt more like peace and healing than things had in some time, for Yuuri.

Finding middle ground between them was easier than expected. Victor generally kept his distance from Yuuri unless the latter was sat down or laying down, and Yuuri initiated most forms of physical contact. It felt…natural. Just like it had when Victor had just fit in with his family.

Getting out of his head was, apparently, all Yuuri needed to do in order to make things work. Within a few days, they agreed that he was well enough to come back to the rink as well. None of the other skaters acknowledged that he’d been gone at all, making it all the more obvious that Victor had told them not to.

Yakov lightly patted his shoulder when he sat in his usual chair by the side of the rink, but otherwise also continued as normal. Yuuri relished in the simplicity of it all. Get up early, go to the rink, watch Victor and Yuuri, spend the afternoon flirting with Victor and, if the weather allowed it, walk Makka together.

It wasn’t until his next check-up rolled around that Yuuri felt worried again. He’d been more careful with his ankle, but sitting in the waiting room for a few minutes, he felt true fear again. Had it been enough? Had he done better? Was he healing?

Anna’s usual cool demeanour wasn’t exactly any help with it, but as she studied his ankle and the new scans they’d taken earlier, he still felt something ease within him. He was getting better. He had to be. He KNEW he was getting better.

“Well, Mr Katsuki, I see you’ve been taking my advice.” He took a sharp breath and nodded. “Hm, yes, this is good. You haven’t aggravated it any further, and I suspect even the trouble we had last time was more temporary swelling than an actual complication. You are doing well indeed.” Victor’s hand, previously on the back of his chair, clamped down on his shoulder, hard.

“So… I’m doing okay?” The doctor smiled kindly at him. “Yes, indeed. If only ALL of my patients were as obedient.” She shot Victor a dirty glare, and the hand on his shoulder eased up a bit. “Yes, well, I went back to skating, so clearly I did alright.” Whatever her response was, it was in Russian, and Yuuri didn’t understand it.

He didn’t really want to either.

Head still swimming on his way back, Yuuri found it hard to acknowledge that his fear, his worry, his anger had been over what was essentially a misunderstanding. His ankle was fine, he was fine. Victor seemed to understand, curiously enough, and gave him more space than usual until they went to bed – where normally, he would all but wrap himself around Yuuri, this time he gave him a simple kiss on the cheek before he laid down.

Rather than distant, it felt comforting, and Yuuri fell asleep with a small smile on his face.


	44. Chapter 44

Their tentative but steady rhythm worked well enough, for over a month. Frequent calls to Yuuri’s family, or rather from Yuuri’s family joined their schedule. Victor was always beyond enthusiastic when Yuuri excused himself to the bedroom, and, along with Makka, would bound into the bedroom once Yuuri called them in so they could greet Yuuri’s family.

It was… okay. It wasn’t what Yuuri had pictured he’d be doing almost half a year after worlds. He found himself idly doodling in a sketchbook sometimes, thinking about a routine he may or may not have skated next season…not that there would have been a season without a coach anyway.

He hid the sketchbook from Victor, of course. There was no telling what the older skater would say or do if he found it – he’d probably critique it, in his usual oblivious and sometimes brutal bluntness… or worse, he’d encourage it.

No, Yuuri didn’t want that.

So, naturally, Victor found it. He wasn’t even subtle in snooping through Yuuri’s things really – after having a shower, Yuuri came back to find Victor on his bed, Yuuri’s backpack open beside him… leafing through the sketchbook.

“Victor… why did you go through my things?” The Russian smiled softly. “Oh, I’d seen you doodle in this a lot. I was curious what it was about.” “Well… please don’t go through my things for that?” Victor sighed. “Yes, you’re right. Not a nice thing to do, I’ll admit.”

Suspicion welled up in Yuuri – the other man was entirely too… unrepentant. “Okay…?” He mumbled into the towel, only for Victor’s smile to widen even more. “These are good, you know? A good start for a routine. Why didn’t you tell me you were working on them?”

Towelling his hair off, Yuuri reached for his dressing gown, hung up on the wardrobe as usual. It was a ridiculously fluffy thing Victor had brought him and Yuuri secretly loved it. The sketchbook incident, however…

“Why did you look into my bag?” He asked again. Behind him, Victor shifted on the bed. “Well, it seemed fair, don’t you think?” “Fair…?” Warm arms settled around Yuuri’s shoulders and he was pulled back against the solid chest of his current roommate. “Well, I mean you went through my collection, didn’t you?”

Frowning, Yuuri turned – Victor didn’t collect anything, and he certainly hadn’t gone through… oh.

“The, uhm, posters?” Victor chuckled. “The signatures were a nice touch. When did you find them?” Yuuri gulped. “A few days after I came here. It was… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.” Victor laughed softly. “I don’t mind. It was nice of you to sign them for your biggest fan!” 

The 14-year old version of Yuuri would have probably hyperventilated, being told that by Victor Nikiforov. Now though… he’d been with him long enough, that all he felt was a pleasant warmth in his stomach. “Yes, you never signed any posters for YOUR biggest fan.” Victor gasped in fake shock.

“What? Makka never had any posters of me!” Yuuri gaped for a moment before reaching down, Makka’s head already almost in reach to be petted. “Well, that’s true. You signed her collar though, didn’t you?” Victor cleared his throat. “No? It’s… an engraving.”

“Of your signature.” “Well, yes. How else would people know she’s mine?” Yuuri shrugged – there was no point in arguing with Victor. “I’m genuinely sorry I snooped. It was when I was just going stir-crazy… I’d already looked at everything else.” Gentle fingers brushed hair out of his face as Victor chuckled. “It’s alright, my Yuuri. I didn’t exactly make a secret out of the fact that I’m your fan too… and that I missed you when you went back to Detroit.”

Unable to meet his eyes, Yuuri studied the seam of Victor's shirt. Immaculate, of course, and covering what he knew to be a beautiful body. Right, that train of thought was not helping his composure any. “I still shouldn’t have done it.” “I genuinely don’t mind. As for that sketchbook… I know you were hiding it.”

There was no point in denying it. “It was just… just something to keep me busy.” “No, that’s not what this is.” Victor stepped back in order to retrieve the book and flipped to a random page. “What do you think it is?” “This, my dear Yuuri… is your future!”

A sliver of anger sliced through him – as it often did when Victor just casually assumed he’d be back to skating competitively soon. He was recovering quickly, but a six-month break for a top athlete was potentially fatal, and he wasn’t that good to begin with… Yuuri shook his head.

“It’s not even a program.” “No of course not, and a lot of it is completely awful, but there’s enough in here to base a program on.” “A program.” “Yes, maybe your next short? I don’t think it’s good enough for a free.” Ah, typical Victor. Yuuri adjusted his glasses. “Look, it was just some thoughts. I was hiding it because I thought you’d do something like this. I haven’t even been cleared to skate again. It’s too soon for a program.”

Victor snapped the book shut.

“Is that so?” “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Yes!” “So you don’t want this?” “No!”

A sly grin spread on the other man’s face.

“Alright then, I’m taking it.”


	45. Chapter 45

“What do you mean?” “I MEAN, that if you don’t want this, I’ll take it. I’ll use it for the next Grand Prix. I’ll use EVERYTHING in this and prove to you how good it is.” 

“You can’t do that!”

Yuuri made a feeble grab for the book, but even with his mobility fully restored, Victor was taller and more graceful. He dodged easily, holding the book out of reach. “Yes, I can.” “But Victor… you already have programs! I’ve seen you skate them, seen you work on them with your coach!”

The older skater waved him off. “I’ve changed my programs before, Yakov will understand.” Yuuri doubted that very much, having, well, met the man. “That isn’t a program!” “I’ll make it one. And then… I’ll beat you with it.”

Yuuri sighed, torn between exasperation and anger. “It may have escaped your notice, but I’m not competing this season! The Grand Prix is happening in eight months, and I haven’t qualified for it! I’m not competing in nationals, even! I CAN’T compete!”

The Russian stopped mid-movement and lowered his arm, still holding the notebook.

“About that… actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Cold dread settled in his stomach. “Is the JSF revoking my certification? Because of my injury-” Victor blinked in apparent surprise. “What? No, no. The opposite actually. I contacted the Nishigori family and they helped me fill out the paperwork for signing you up for the national circuit.”

“You… you WHAT?” Yuuri hardly recognised his own voice as he screeched at Victor, legs shaking and a cold sweat on his back. “Well, you were disqualified due to injury. In lieu of that, the JSF decided to make an exception to the qualifying rules and let you participate in regional competitions this year. You only need to medal in something in order to be eligible for the Grand Prix!”  
“Victor!”

The other man lost a little bit of his self-assuredness, even as Yuuri felt a few tears trickling down his cheeks. “Well… I thought you’d be happy…” “Happy? Victor, I can’t SKATE! I haven’t skated in MONTHS and the ONLY qualifying competition is in a MONTH!”

The Russian set the sketchbook down, a serious expression on his face. “Yes, I know that. I was going to tell you after tomorrow’s check-up. You’ll be cleared for skating… and you can use my program. I know you’ve been watching me train it. You can use all of it while I prep this.” He pointed at the book.

“This is insane! There’s no way I can… A month? In just a month? Victor, I don’t have a coach, I’m out of practice, out of shape!” Victor scoffed. “No, you’re not. I know you’ve been doing just about every fitness exercise you’re allowed. I know you’ve been working hard in your off-time, and I KNOW how you skate, Katsuki Yuuri! This is just some national competition. You’ll have no trouble at all acing it.”

More and more tears flowed down Yuuri’s cheeks until all he could see was blurry shapes. He was angry – not the kind of angry that he felt when he’d been hurt, but a deep-seated rage he’d never expect to feel for Victor.

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by Makka’s panting and his own sobbing.

“Yuuri… I thought… you’d be happy?” A choked off laugh escaped him. “Happy? You thought I’d be HAPPY?” “Well… yes! You’ve been wanting to skate for months and I just-” Yuuri cut him off with a shake of his head. “You just WHAT? YES, I’ve been wanting to skate, but that wasn’t your decision!”

“But Yuuri, there are deadlines for applications and I just-” “No, Victor! It wasn’t up to you! I wanted to go back to skating when I was ready when I wanted to. On my terms!” Victor took a small step back. “But, you can still back out if you don’t want to do it. I mean… they’ll understand, medical reasons.”

Voice trailing off, Victor took a step forward again, reaching out to Yuuri. He backed away instantly, keeping the gap between them the same distance. “Yuuri-” “No! You had NO right, Victor!” For a moment, the two of them stay like that, Victor reaching for him, Yuuri practically pressed against the wardrobe.

A moment later, the spell broke, and Yuuri dashed off. Out of the bedroom and through the flat, grabbing his coat and slipping into his sneakers. He wasn’t sure if Victor wanted to follow him or not, but he practically ran down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. With nowhere to be… he turned left and started walking.


	46. Chapter 46

It didn’t take him long to reach the rink. It was late enough that he was alone, but Yakov had given him a key weeks, if not months, ago. The rink was still lit up by a few lamps, not enough for proper training, but enough to keep it illuminated.

Panting from his brisk walk in the freezing Russian air, Yuuri grasped hold of the rink barrier and stared over it, at the ice. He couldn’t feel its chill, too cold still from the outside, but he remembered it in his very soul.

He wasn’t cleared to skate… but he had to. It was easy enough to go and fish out a pair of skates – ironically enough, his namesakes’ as they had the same shoe size. His own skates weren’t at the rink – they were in Victor’s flat. Lacing up the unfamiliar skates with their black blades a little too tightly, he stood… and wobbled.

Skating in national competitions. Yeah right.

Yanking the skate guards off, he stalked to the rink and stepped onto the ice. Nearly half a year had passed since he’d last skated. He pushed off the barrier the same way he’d done hundreds, no thousands of times.

The skates bit his feet the wrong way, he wasn’t wearing proper socks, hadn’t warmed up… but the glide on the ice felt the same. He wobbled, his ankle just a tad unsteady, only slightly too wobbly to feel reliable. Skating circles didn’t feel the way it used to. They ran wide, he couldn’t commit to tightening his steps the way he needed to.

He wasn’t ready.

There was no way he could do it.

And Victor’s routine… Yes, he’d spent months watching the man perfect it. It was beautiful, and entirely him. Graceful motions, ridiculously difficult jumps, and a theme that meant nothing to Yuuri – Fulfilment. With a soft laugh, he lifted his arms and took up the position that Victor started in. Back straight, arms out, fingers down.

He held the pose for a second, then stepped back, skating a circle before starting the first step sequence. He didn’t need music to know it was way off, that he covered too much distance, got too close to the wall of the rink. 

The first jump was a triple-double combo that he had no hope of attempting much less landing. Frustrated, he grabbed hold of the railing and let his head thump down on it.

A month to the Japanese competitive season, eight until the Grand Prix. Victor wanted him to use his own program when Yuuri couldn’t skate his usual circles. It was laughable… except Yuuri wasn’t laughing.


	47. Chapter 47

The bang of the door came as a surprise to him – after all, it was nearly midnight, and even the Russian skaters went home hours before that. It was why Yuuri had gone. Slowly turning, he checked to see who the new arrival was and if they were headed to the rink or perhaps the changing rooms first. It really shouldn’t have been as big of a surprise as it was, to see a very, very disgruntled-looking Yakov standing next to the rink.

Taking a deep breath, he skated across the ice and came to a slow stop in front of the Russian coach. Yuuri was taller in skates, on the ice, but he’d never felt as small as he did standing there. Before he could so much as utter an apology, Yakov opened his coat and pulled out a package – it was brown, wrapped with a piece of string.

He knew what it was before he accepted it. “Put Yura’s skates back. They don’t fit. You can’t skate in someone else’s feet, da?” Yuuri clutched the package containing his skates. “I… can’t skate.” “Well no, not in Yura’s skates. Off the ice, boy, before you break your ankle a second time.”

Yuuri did as ordered – took off the borrowed skates in silence and put them back, before pulling on his own. They fit better… but not the way he was used to. Lacing them up, at least, came naturally to him. Back in his own shoes, he re-joined Yakov by the side of the rink. The older man hadn’t moved a step.

“Vitya told you.” “You knew?” Yakov laughed. “Of course! You don’t think he could have done it alone? He’s not subtle, that boy.” Despite his anger, Yuuri had to agree – Victor Nikiforov was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

“Why did you help him? I’m not ready.” “No, you’re not… But he has a lot of faith in you, for some reason. You’re a talented skater, Yuuri Katsuki, and without a bit of pressure, I think that would go to waste. Are you going to take the chance?”

Yuuri clenched his hands into fists and shivered. “Sir… I appreciate what you and Victor are trying to do, but I can’t… I only have a month, no coach, nothing. I can’t even afford the flights back and forth, not to mention the sign-up fees, or the fees to train here at the rink… I just can’t.”

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “Nobody has asked you for money. You’ve been helping Vitya and Yura with their skating for months. What makes you think they wouldn’t return the favour? You’ve been helping me as well. Much as I hate to admit it, they are both good skaters… they could help you, easily.”

Yuuri swallowed heavily. “And… my routine? I don’t have one.” “Don’t you?”

Yakov pulled back and scoffed lightly. “That stupid man has been prancing like a peacock in front of you for MONTHS. There’s no way you don’t know his routine by now.” “That’s… what he said. But it’s his routine.” “So? He hasn’t debuted it yet. Besides, even if he had, at the national level, nobody would care, really. You’ll, of course, have to downgrade the jumps and maybe remove some of the spin elements, but you can come up with passable skate, da?”

“But…” Yakov huffed. “Look, Katsuki. Nobody will force you. You don’t think you’re ready, you’re not ready… But the man that went and got up a fifth time after falling at last year’s Grand Prix? There’s no way he’d back down from a challenge like this.”


	48. Chapter 48

Yuuri’s head was spinning, emotions swirling until he didn’t know which way was up anymore. Coach Yakov was right – he COULD turn it down, probably should. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone – Japan, his family, himself… Victor. He didn’t want to disappoint any of them. 

What was the right choice to make? Yakov implied he could do it, Victor outright said he could… but how was that possible? He was Yuuri Katsuki, only Yuuri. Not anyone special, not at the same level as Victor Nikiforov.

Yet… yet Victor had believed in him, and clearly so did Yakov. The Nishigoris too… and he knew that, no matter what, his family had always had faith in him. Yuuri stared down at his skates, before stepping back onto the ice. Did he deserve the faith they all had in him?

He wobbled, steadied himself. Had he earned their trust and help? He looked down at his skates, gliding over the ice. This was something he’d been doing since he was basically a toddler. He knew it was mostly nerves that kept him from going in a straight line, not that that helped.

He took a deep breath and tested his balance first on his good leg, then on his injured one. They felt the same, as healed as they were likely to get. Taking a deep breath, he shifted his weight, tested his balance, allowed his body to relax a little.

Yuuri Katsuki was a mediocre skater… but he was a skater. 

Increasing his speed, he circled almost the entire rink, two, three, four times. It got easier with every time until he felt almost like himself again. He made the split decision to turn, to skate backwards and to jump, jump like he’d done a thousand times.

It was mid-air that he first felt exactly like he used to when training. A double flip, nothing challenging. He overstepped, came down a bit too hard and in competition, he’d have lost a fair few points for it.

It was the first time in six months Yuuri Katsuki felt like a skater again.


	49. Chapter 49

He was good at focusing on nothing but the ice when he skated, but even that particular talent stood no chance against his instinctive awareness of all things to do with Victor Nikiforov. He noticed the older skater as soon as the man entered the rink and long before he came to a stop in one of the less well-lit spots near the ice. 

He needn’t have bothered. There was no way Yuuri wouldn’t notice Victor… yet, he also wasn’t about to take the first step in making up with the man… no matter the relief he felt that Victor had come at all, that he hadn’t just sent Yakov instead.

Yuuri had no idea how long he skated circles and classic figures before Victor moved again. He stepped away from the shadows, back towards the changing rooms – towards the exit. Yuuri wasn’t sure if he was relieved or sad. For all that he didn’t want the audience, he wasn’t sure if he wanted the older man gone either.

As it turned out he needn’t have worried either way as a few moments later, a familiar sound reached his ears. Blades on ice, but not his own. The rhythm of the steps was just a tad different, and the sound approaching.

Yuuri Katsuki was sharing the ice with Victor Nikiforov properly, for the first time since the failure that was the last Grand Prix. He didn’t turn, didn’t want to give Victor the satisfaction, but he didn’t need to.

Gloved hands settled on his hips as Victor gently pulled himself closer, not pulling Yuuri off-kilter, but matching his pace. “Yuuri.” Victor’s voice was low enough that he barely heard it. Speeding up and pulling back was easy, the other skater didn’t try to hold him. Skating backwards brought him face to face with Victor, whose expression was inscrutable.

“Yakov spoke to you.” “How did you get him to come here?” Victor laughed softly. “By promising to let HIM choose the music for my new routine… provided that I need a new routine?” “I can’t take yours.”

A glimmer in Victor’s eyes was all the warning Yuuri got before Victor, with mere feet between them, launched into a triple axel – perfect, of course. Facing Yuuri again, the man shrugged. “You can. You should.” “But-”

Victor waved him off. “I made it… knowing that I might not be the one skating it.” “But you’ve been working on it for months, ever since I came here. You couldn’t have known I’d recover well enough. I’m not even supposed to be skating yet.”

“No, but your appointment is in a few hours. You’ll be cleared. I know it. Besides, I believed in your skating.” “You didn’t know about the sketchbook.” “No, I didn’t. That was just lucky… but even so, I could have easily trained something else. Do you not think my routine is good enough?”

Yuuri snorted, still skating backwards, wide circles in the rink. “Not good enough? Victor… if something’s not good enough it’s me. I’m… out of practice. I can barely skate.” The older man, sped up, past Yuuri, forcing him to turn in order to keep up. “You’re keeping up with me. Last time I checked I was one of the best skaters in the world.”

Yuuri groaned. “I know that! But… but I’m not!” “Aren’t you one of the Grand Prix finalists from last year? The sixth-best skater in the world? Look… Yuuri.” Quite suddenly, Victor stopped, Yuuri almost barrelling past him. The awkwardness was quickly forgotten when gloved fingers reached for his chin and pulled him closer, tilting his head up. It was easier to forget how much taller Victor was… and how beautiful the man was, in the low light of the rink.

“Yuuri. I’ve already told you what I think. You can do it, but only if you want to. I’ll support you whatever you do, you know that.” Victor’s other hand grasped his, the ring on it a familiar pressure against his own, un-gloved fingers.

Of course, Yuuri knew that. Staring into blue eyes, he couldn’t even remember why he had been so mad to begin with. Yuuri WANTED to skate, he WANTED to compete.

“I’m going to beat you.” Silver lashes fluttered over blue eyes.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to beat you, Victor Nikiforov. I’m going to make it to the Grand Prix and THIS time, I’ll stand on the podium with you… above you.”

A finger brushed over his bottom lip, pressing down ever so gently.

“I look forward to it.”

Yuuri felt the air whoosh out of his lungs in an unexpected laugh. Victor was a wonder… and Yuuri would do his best to live up to his, to everyone’s expectations.

“Can we go home?” Yuuri leaned into Victor’s hand on his face. 

“... Of course, my Yuuri.”


	50. Chapter 50

The trip back was as sombre as it was quick. Both skaters put away their skates in silence before they got into a cab Victor had ordered while Yuuri put his shoes back on. At the flat, even Makkachin was calmer than usual when they returned – they headed straight to bed, barely a word exchanged before they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other. 

The alarm woke them up rather unkindly the next morning... In time for Yuuri’s next appointment. Victor seemed sure Yuuri would be cleared for skating, but he felt a lot less sure of it. His legs hurt, muscles aching from the impromptu skating the night before. 

Still, Victor calmly holding his hand helped, as he stepped into Anna’s office for perhaps the thirtieth time since he’d come to Russia. The visit felt different, even though the doctor herself was the same as always.

She examined him, as always, and gave her frank analysis of his status – healing as expected, progressing steadily.

Really, the only thing that was different was that, on his way out, she wordlessly handed him a folded-up piece of paper. The writing on it was in Russian, but Victor was quick to pluck it from his finger and scan it.

“Told you so.” The Russian chirped. “What does it say?”

“Cleared for high-impact training schedules. Just like I said.” Yuuri blinked up at the other man. “You called ahead to check?” Victor grinned. “Of course not. Patient confidentiality and all. Besides, do you really think Anna would tell me?”

“You’re Russia’s hero, aren’t you?” Victor winked at him, the meaning obvious – conversation over.

Well then. “I’ll have to speak to coach Yakov about setting up a training schedule, won’t I?” Victor pulled a different piece of paper from his coat and handed it to Yuuri. This one was in Russian too, but he’d learned to read enough of it to be able to figure it out.

“A timetable?” “This month’s training schedule. Your slots are already pencilled in.” It was easy enough to spot his name… right underneath Victor’s. He had nearly twice as many sessions pencilled in than Victor did.

“You’ll have to work hard if you want to make good on your promise.”

“Promise?” Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder the same way he’d been doing for months. “I remember something about you defeating me, standing above me on the podium?” Groaning, Yuuri hid his face under his hands.

Sure, it had sounded good in, the dark of the night, adrenaline and excitement coursing through him like it was nothing. Now, in the mundane streets of St. Petersburg, cars driving past them… It was embarrassing.

“Well, about that, you see, I didn’t mean-” Victor’s fingers tightened on his shoulder as he stumbled through his words. “Now, now, that won’t do at all – a challenge is a challenge. You can’t just back down.”

Yuuri paused mid-step, pulling Victor to a stop as well. “Hm? What is it?” Shaking his head, Yuuri smiled. “Nothing. I just… I just realised that this is a challenge to myself, isn’t it? I want to prove that I can do this. I know I probably can’t beat you… but I want to try. So, isn’t it like we’ve got a challenge each now?”

The utter bafflement on Victor’s face following his words made Yuuri feel foolish, just for a second. Then he burst out laughing, the sound filling the cold air around them. It wasn’t the kind of laugh the older man showed in interviews, nor something he often did in public at all – it was an expression Yuuri had gotten to know while staying with him.

After Victor calmed, the man gently tussled Yuuri’s hair. “If that’s how you want to look at it… I won’t make it easy for you, you know.” Grasping his hand, Yuuri pulled Victor along. “Let’s head to the rink?”

“Of course. You have training to do, don’t you? You need to all but relearn the basics if you want to stay on your feet in Japan in a month. Honestly, your balance was off, your steps out of sync, and you’ll have to seriously work on your timing if you plan on being worthy of my routine! Have you thought about costumes yet? Some of my older ones may fit you but we’ll have to have them altered… you HAVE put on a little weight, and…”

It was going to be a long day for Yuuri.


	51. Chapter 51

As it turned out, it wasn’t just a long day, but a month straight out of hell. Victor, who despite Yuuri AND Yakov’s protest had decided to adopt something of an assistant coach role for Yuuri was, as it turned out, a slave driver.

Yuuri had known that he worked harder than anyone of course, but he hadn’t realised Victor would also be working him even harder, on top of the already extensive training schedule. Yakov arranged their lessons to have minimal overlap on the ice, giving Victor time to practice his new routine out of sight from Yuuri – his idea, not Yakov’s and afforded Yuuri the opportunity to have Victor and Yakov give their feedback.

Said feedback wasn’t what Yuuri was used to from the polite and friendly Ciao Ciao – Victor was almost cruel in his blunt criticism, and Yakov rarely spoke at all unless it was to complain. All in all, it was a hellish three weeks leading up to the competition.

All Yuuri did was eat, sleep and train – even spending time with Victor got difficult, their interactions reduced to training and sleeping holding each other. By the time the two of them – of course, Victor insisted on coming along – got ready to fly to Kyushu for the two-day competition, Yuuri actually missed Victor, despite seeing him every day.

It didn’t help that Victor was all business with Yuuri, talking about nothing but the competition and what Yuuri needed to work on. He’d drastically down-graded Yuuri’s jumps in preparation for the competition, against Yuuri’s wishes, and was still not satisfied.

Yuuri was the only competitor with any quads at all, yet Victor had banned him from jumping any, and the triple axel for good measure. With nothing but doubles and triples, he’d said, Yuuri would have time in order to focus on his strengths – step sequences.

By the time they checked into the room in the hotel adjacent to the rink the competition was held at, Yuuri was at the end of his patience. Nearly twelve hours of non-stop critique, coupled with the stress of the last few weeks was enough to make him nearly boil over.

Nearly.

It wasn’t until Victor referred to the upcoming competition as a ‘simple trial run before the real competitions’ that Yuuri snapped. It just so happened that Yuuri had stepped into the hotel room first, and without so much as waiting for Victor to close the door, he grabbed the taller man by the collar of his expensive coat and yanked him off balance. It was easy to shove him against the wall behind the door and to take his mouth in a heated kiss – he couldn’t remember how long it had been since they’d last kissed properly, but he finally felt his anger melt away when after barely a heartbeat’s hesitation, his frantic kiss was eagerly returned.

Clever hands wound themselves into his hair as Victor wrapped a leg around his hips to pull him closer. Yuuri’s hands were fixed on the other man’s hips, not-so-subtly grinding against him. He could barely credit the little mewls Victor gave, no hesitation in his reactions whatsoever.

Something tense in him loosened, the longer they kissed until the stress from the last few weeks had all but melted away from him completely.

Rather than releasing Victor, he did something he’d dreamed about for months – well, years if he included his childhood crush on the man. Shifting his hands down, Yuuri hoisted Victor up and stumbled them both over to the bed before outright tossing him onto it, following close behind.

Pressing Victor into the bed and kissing him again felt incredibly good, reminded him of something that had unfairly taken a backseat with all the training – their relationship. It had happened gradually, but Yuuri had nearly forgotten about how it had all began – alcohol, a challenge and Victor’s secrecy about said challenge.

Staring down at the flustered man underneath him now, Yuuri felt the other’s body keenly, both their arousals pressed against each other. 

“What… brought that on?” Victor said, his voice a tad hoarse. “I just… you wouldn’t stop talking.” “Oh. So… you’ll do that every time I nag you?” The mischievous glint in Victor’s eyes revealed easily enough what answer he expected – a denial.

“Try me.” “You know you’re only encouraging me to do it more, right?” Yuuri chuckled softly. “However shall I cope?” Victor gave his trademark wink and lightly pushed against Yuuri’s side. The younger man let himself collapse to the side, giving his partner space.

“It’s… been a while, hasn’t it?” He eventually ventured, when Victor didn’t seem keen to fill the silence on his own.

The other man froze for a second, just long enough for Yuuri to see.


	52. Chapter 52

“Mhm, it has, hasn’t it?” Victor’s voice did not betray his thoughts at all.

“Lately… there hasn’t been much time.” Yuuri offered, suddenly feeling like he owed Victor an explanation. “Oh, it’s fine, Yuuri. We were both incredibly busy. I don’t expect to be at the forefront of your mind every second of every day.”

“You’ve been on my mind since I was in my teens.” He blurted, immediately cursing himself for still embarrassing himself in front of Victor after so much time together. Wasn’t it enough the other man watched him faceplant on the ice nearly daily?

Clearly not.

Victor laughed, a soft, gentle sound. “So, it really was just stress?” “What else would it be, Victor?” “Who knows? We’re both athletes. Now that you’re back in training… well, I couldn’t be sure. Do you want to beat me? Or be with me?”

“Can’t I want both?” Yuuri shifted a bit closer, a little warm in his coat on the bed.

“Of course you can… but it’s usually me that wants everything, isn’t it? How did you once phrase it? ‘That’s my thing, please don’t take it away from me’?” Yuuri grinned at the memory – he had indeed said that, about his own insecurities.

“I didn’t mean to make you doubt my intentions. Or my… affection.” Gently rubbing his fingers over the ring that adorned his finger as always, Yuuri smiled softly. “I didn’t, really. If anything, this has been good for us… me.”

Sitting up, Yuuri shrugged out of his coat, before being pushed back down quite roughly. This time, Victor was on top of him, bodily pinning him to the bed. “What… what do you mean?” Victor didn’t answer, instead kissed him again, long and slow, and deep enough to make his toes curl.

“Did you forget about the challenge? Or… have you guessed what it is by now? It’s become rather obvious, hasn’t it?” Blinking in confusion, Yuuri shook his head. “I… no? I haven’t figured it out…? Should I have?”

Victor’s chuckle was a bit more melancholic than he was used to. “No… no, I think it’s better that you don’t. I just assumed, what with how you pushed me against the wall and threw me on the bed… it was rather like after the banquet, no?”

“Oh… I guess? From what you’ve said?” Victor nodded. “Yes, my dear Yuuri… so do you know what comes next?” He leaned down again, mere inches between their faces, and Yuuri felt his heartbeat speed up. Victor couldn’t mean…?

“It’s time for a nap, you have training to do!”


	53. Chapter 53

Well, he should have expected as much, really. They stripped down to their underwear and fell into bed together, falling asleep readily, despite their shared arousal. Yuuri slept better than he usually did in unfamiliar beds, and when they got back up a few hours later for more training, he felt like somehow, they’d made a step forward, like maybe… they’d made progress.

Victor quietly humming to himself in the bathroom as he applied his many, many, many hair products seemed to support this theory. Of course, this in no way afforded him leniency from his temporary coach on the ice. Yakov hadn’t been able to leave the rink to attend the competition with Yuuri, and since Victor’s competitions were still a few weeks away, it had been an easy decision.

Without Yakov there, Victor was no less brutal in his criticism, of course. Yuuri wasn’t really surprised by that, of course. The switch from flirting to professionalism was easy – as soon as Yuuri had put his skates on, Victor seemed to switch to what Yuuri mentally dubbed ‘coach mode’.

He had to admit the feedback was valuable, and the gruelling sessions had allowed him to progress significantly faster than he’d thought was possible for himself, but it still stung his pride a bit. Adopting Victor’s routines for his own had been strange, especially since the older man never spoke a word about his own replacement routines. He’d down-graded jumps, simplified several elements, and then down-graded again for this first competition.

Of course, objectively, Yuuri knew that he could do it, if only because none of the other skaters were quite at his level. He had almost five years on them all, not to mention a lot more competition experience. That… did little to ease his nerves.

Even after spending three days on-location training for the competition to spare himself jet lag on the actual day, he didn’t feel more confident than he had, really. It didn’t help that the other competitors watched him like a hawk, as did their coaches. Several had come up and asked to shake his hand, even, and it had been… strange.

Despite his seniority, Yuuri was there to compete with them… yet they all seemed to think that his win was a foregone conclusion.

Then it happened – the day of the short competition, and Yuuri slept straight through morning practice. In fact, he didn’t wake until twenty minutes before the beginning of the first performance. With him being second, that was… not great.

After practically jumping into his costume and darting down to the prep area, he was a tad surprised to find Victor waiting there, immaculate in a brand new suit.

“Ah, looks like sleeping beauty finally joined the prince!” Out of breath, Yuuri snatched his skates from Victor’s hands. “Why… didn’t you wake me? I missed practice.” Victor waved him off. “You looked like you needed the sleep, and besides, I didn’t want you to psych yourself out. Oh look, Minami is up!”

The chipper teen had drawn the first spot – Yuuri positioned himself so he could watch one of the live monitors in the warm-up area and settled down to do his usual stretches and exercises. Victor helped, of course, uncharacteristically silent. Yuuri could tell his own tension was affecting the Russian as well, so when a loud beep announced the end of Minami’s performance… well, Yuuri did the only thing he could think of.

He reached up and yanked Victor down by the tie, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Before the other man had time to recover or respond, Yuuri gave him his most confident smirk. “Watch me, Victor.”

With that, he stepped onto the ice and assumed his position.


	54. Chapter 54

Well, the short hadn’t been a complete disaster. He hadn’t fallen, and he hadn’t forgotten his movements either, but he HAD made several unnecessary mistakes. Overstepping on a triple Lutz with his experience – well, Victor made no secret out of just how much better he ought to have done.

Still, he was in second place by less than one point, so it was far from over. He couldn’t credit how… not awful he felt that night, back in their shared room. He’d half-expected to screw it up completely, but he hadn’t. He’d… done okay.

Assuming he pulled off his free skate okay, his base score alone pretty much guaranteed him a podium spot, if maybe not first. Sprawled out on the bed, his arms covering his face, Yuuri allowed his mind to spin around the fact that… he’d done okay.

The bed moving softly next to him alerted him to the fact that Victor had joined him after his shower. Lowering his arms, he wasn’t prepared to see the other man, still wet, a very, very small towel wrapped around his waist, just in touching distance.

“Shower’s free if you want it?” Yuuri gulped, eyes tracing a water droplet on the other man’s chest. “Uh, no, I’m good. I showered… showered earlier?” He gulped. Victor huffed. “But Yuuuuri! There’s no such thing as too many showers!”

“N-No!” With a sigh, Victor shifted closer, swinging a leg over Yuuri, the towel fluttering away as he straddled Yuuri’s stomach. He could barely acknowledge his disappointment that Victor’s usual pair of black briefs were revealed under the towel.

Still, studying the beautiful man above him, feeling water droplets fall onto his own clothes… it was a powerful feeling, somehow. “Ne, Victor?” “Hm?” “I… did okay, didn’t I? I didn’t screw it up.” The man huffed.

“Well, you messed up almost all your jumps and a few of your steps were slow, and then you overspun on that last spin combination and-” Abruptly, Victor broke off and a soft smile settled on his features. “No, you didn’t screw up at all. You really have a chance tomorrow.”

“I… do, don’t I?” “You didn’t think so?” “You know that I’m… insecure.” Victor shrugged, shifting his weight a bit. “You say that, but it’s not true, is it? Can I ask you something?” “Mh?” “Why is it that sometimes you are forceful with me, push me down and kiss me senseless and other times you blush when I hold your hand?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to respond before realising that he had no response.

“I don’t know. I’m not confident, but with you… I feel like I can be, sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” “Well, you can also be… intimidating. But yes, with you, being confident feels natural.” Victor hummed gently. “Which one is the real you?” Yuuri’s fingers clenched into fists involuntarily, as silence reigned between them.

“It’s okay not to be sure, you know. Maybe you’re… both?” Yuuri smiled weakly. “Maybe? I don’t know about that. I feel more like myself than on my own, sometimes. I really… I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”

“Now now, you make it sound like that time is about to be over. You’re… not about to push me away, are you?” Yuuri gently placed his hands on Victor’s thighs, the muscles lightly straining underneath the wet skin. “I’d rather have you closer, to be honest.”

The Russian above him wasted no time in tilting down, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. “How about we postpone that until after you’ve aced the skate tomorrow?” Yuuri sighed. “You think I will…coach?”

“Coach? And here I thought we were more than that!” Victor languidly stretched, draping his body along Yuuri’s. He could feel the beginnings of Victor’s erection pressed against him – a familiar feel, not that they’d ever technically touched each other. They’d come close, of course, but other than accidental brushes against each other and one ill-fated attempt at a shower together that had had Yuuri almost fall again, they’d behaved.

Yuuri ran his fingers down Victor’s back.  
“Of course we’re more than that Victor. You’re also my…” He trailed off when the older man nuzzled his head against Yuuri’s chest, clearly looking forward to whatever Yuuri was about to say.

“Rival.”

“Yuuuuuuri!”


	55. Chapter 55

The next morning came quickly, and Yuuri felt restless again. More than the day before, it was the free skate that mattered. It was his only real chance to qualify for other tournaments, the ones he needed in order to even hope to be invited to the Grand Prix. He knew, despite his best efforts, he might not even be invited at all…

Thoughts spinning out of his mind, Yuuri flinched when Victor’s hand settled low on his back. He wasn’t pushing, merely offering support – and he succeeded at interrupting Yuuri’s spiralling thoughts. 

“It’s almost your turn. Are you ready?” Yuuri studied Victor in his smart suit, hair styled like always. That morning, the same man had drooled on his chest. Victor Nikiforov was an enigma, and one that Yuuri had accepted into his life so easily, he wasn’t sure how he’d survive if he lost the other again.

No, that wasn’t an option – he would do his best to keep Victor… to make Victor happy. The man had done so much for Yuuri, had dragged him back to competing… the least Yuuri could do was meet the man’s expectations.

New-found dedication burning through his veins, Yuuri slipped off his skate-guards and handed them to Victor who gave him a puzzled look.

Then, the horn sounded and the previous skater exited the ice. Yuuri didn’t pay him any mind, instead focusing on the ice, he quickly circled the rink once and took his position in the middle. It was a simple matter to go through the version of the free that Victor and him had decided on and, well, discard it entirely.

Victor would understand.

Probably.

The music started and Yuuri began to move.


	56. Chapter 56

Going by Victor’s expression when he met his eyes after stopping in his final position, the older man didn’t approve at all. He couldn’t read his expression exactly – a mix of shock, disapproval and something else entirely.

Sure, he HAD upgraded multiple jumps back to the original version and he had put in a solo quad that he simply didn’t need… but he’d done well. He’d only overstepped once, on a triple axel he didn’t have the speed right for… and he’d touched down on his quad combo.

It was one of the better performances of Yuuri’s career, as far as he was concerned. Victor’s face showed a different opinion altogether. The man was frowning, arms crossed over his chest as Yuuri tentatively skated over to him and exited the rink.

He accepted the skate guards when they were offered and put them on before heading to the Kiss&Cry, the same as the day before. Victor still hadn’t said a word to him – not until they sat. “Your base scores would have guaranteed you podium, if not a win. Why risk it? There was no challenge here, nothing to win.”

Yuuri gasped as the first scores were read out – in Japanese, Victor hadn’t understood them. “You’re right. There wasn’t a challenge… so I made one.” The English voice-over announced the scores again. 78.36 from the short and another 152.46 for his free. It added to 230.82 – a personal best for national competitions and more than 25 points ahead from second and third place.

“Well, I guess I can’t be too upset… You did just beat your last season’s best after all.” Victor’s face very much implied that he was, in fact, upset. Still, Yuuri found it a little hard to credit that as he took his spot on the podium a little later, the weight of the medal an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation on his chest.

It felt both surreal and satisfying, and Yuuri still felt like he was walking on clouds when Victor closed the door behind them, and the silence of their shared hotel room enveloped them. Yuuri didn’t have enough time to even turn before Victor wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed his face into Yuuri’s neck.

“V-Victor?” “You didn’t stick to the program we decided on.” “Are you… mad?” The Russian chuckled. “Not quite. I mean you made an unacceptable amount of mistakes and could have scored much higher than you did, but your performance… What were you thinking about when you skated like that?”

Yuuri gently placed his hand on Victor’s arm. “About… you?” “Well then it’s only fair that I thank you for that, don’t you? Would you like a rub-down?” Yuuri quietly shrugged out of his tracksuit and stripped down to his underwear.

A massage sounded heavenly – he hadn’t realised how tired he had gotten. “How do you want me?” He asked, only realising how his words sounded a moment later, not that Victor seemed fazed. “Lay down and relax.”

Within moments, gentle but firm hands rubbed a fresh-smelling lotion into his muscles, starting with his calves and working his way up to his thighs. Yuuri had to fight to keep himself from groaning at the sensations that played through him – well, at least until a soft moan rang through the silence of the room.

Mortified, Yuuri slapped a hand over his mouth, only to realise he hadn’t been the one to make the sound. Looking down the length of his body, his eyes met Victor’s. The man was flushed, but not actually looking at Yuuri – well, not at his face anyway. Yuuri was wearing his usual boxers, tented considerably by his reaction to Victor’s touch.

The Russian’s face was inches from it, close enough that Yuuri thought he could almost – almost – feel the other's breath on himself. It was nonsense of course, but he certainly enjoyed the mental image.

“Victor?” He asked tentatively. “Hm?” The older of the two didn’t even look up. “You… stopped moving?” Yuuri nearly lost his train of thought when Victor placed one of his hands on his hip, fingers brushing over the skin just above his boxers.

“Yuuuuuri?” “Yes?” “We’ve not really… touched each other.” It wasn’t a question, yet Yuuri felt like something was asked of him. “Well, no. I told you I’ll wait until you’re happy.” Victor studied him intensely for a moment, before casting his eyes down.

“What if I said that I don’t want to wait anymore? That the challenge maybe isn’t that important after all?” “What… what brought this on all of a sudden?” The Russian frowned. “Nothing? Can’t I just… want you?”

Well aware that the massage was clearly over, Yuuri sat up to get a better look at Victor. “What is it?” “It’s… I’m not making progress? I don’t feel like I am.” “Okay?” Yuuri asked, still confused. “I just… at first, things were going… well? The challenge – I told you it meant the world to me, but now I feel like I’m not making any more progress. You on the other hand… you recovered faster than most people could hope for, you got back to competing and Yuuri…”

The Russian grimaced briefly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up. Or… catch up.”


	57. Chapter 57

Yuuri took a deep breath, then another.

Victor Nikiforov was worried about keeping up with HIM. He’d thought that they were long since past issues like that – or rather, it hadn’t occurred to Yuuri that Victor might be feeling like that at all. The older man wasn’t always the easiest to read, and not just because he occasionally hid behind his press smiles to cover his own feelings.

“Victor… I’ve been trying to catch up with you since I was a child.” “That’s skating, this is-” Yuuri waved him off. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t… have to worry about that stuff. I just want to be with you. The skating… Yes, I want to share the ice with you, and I would love to stand above you on the podium, but more than that… I… want to be with you.”

“Won’t you lose interest once you’ve defeated me?” Yuuri snorted. “I’ve admired your skating for a long time. You inspired my entire career, but the Victor that dragged me back to competing, the one that I live with… it’s not the same. When I just admired you, you were this far-away idol. Now you are…” He broke off, unsure how to continue. His fingers inevitably wandered to the ring he wore – always.

“You still inspire me, Victor, but in a different way. Your skating used to inspire me, yes, but now it’s you, as a person, who does.” Yuuri’s gut clenched when he realised that tears were dripping down Victor’s cheeks. Unlike Yuuri, Victor wasn’t an ugly crier at all – he looked ethereal, his eyes even bluer, somehow.

“What if I told you I wanted to abandon the challenge and just… have sex?” Yuuri smiled weakly – who’d have thought he’d ever hear those words from Victor? To be fair, he’d not really expected to hear those words from anyone, given that he was just Yuuri Katsuki… but still.

The answer was obvious.

“I’d say no.”


	58. Chapter 58

“Of course I want you. You know that. But I also know that the challenge is important to you. I’m not sure what brought this on exactly, but I think you… might regret it.” Victor wiped the tears from his cheeks. 

“I could never regret being with you… but thank you. I think I needed to hear you say that.”

They shared a warm smile before Victor stood and stretched. “I’m sorry about that, Yuuri. Today should be about you – you won your first competition, so you should start thinking about the next steps.”

“Does that mean I get to skip my diet to celebrate?” Victor huffed. “No. That’s for Grand Prix wins only.”

Of course it was.

Since neither fancied to go out for dinner, they ordered room service and stayed in the hotel room. Neither of the two brought up the conversation from before, but it had gotten Yuuri thinking – he’d been so focused on his own struggle, his training and his return to competing that he’d failed to think about Victor’s feelings, how it all may be affecting the other man.

It wasn’t the first time – right after Yuuri’s injury, their failure to understand each other’s feelings had been rather… spectacular.

Laying in bed, with Victor softly snoring away, Yuuri struggled to go to sleep.

It felt like ages since he’d even tried to figure out the challenge. All in all, it was easier to put it out of his mind… but this wasn’t just about himself. It was about Victor too. 

Yuuri tried to think about what he knew – who’d have thought his drunk self would have such a huge impact on everything since that banquet?

He knew that Victor thought he had to ‘earn’ his way into Yuuri’s metaphorical bed. Tightening his arm around the Russian, Yuuri smiled to himself. He was the luckiest man alive. Victor had been surprisingly tight-lipped about the details of the challenge, only revealing enough to make Yuuri understand even less than before.

He knew it was something Victor had to do, and it wasn’t directly tied to skating.

What could his drunk self have possibly told the man?

Sighing, he shifted a bit closer to Victor. The older man hummed lightly and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s shoulder. “What is it?” He mumbled, barely audible in the silence of the room. “I’m just thinking… about the challenge.”

“Mhh…I’ve been working on it.” It was clear that Victor wasn’t quite awake from the way he mumbled. “Working on… what?” When no response came, Yuuri thought he may have fallen back asleep, but eventually, the other man breathed a reply after all. “Seeing myself the way you do.”

That… did not clear things up.

It did, however, give Yuuri something to think about. Victor seeing himself the way Yuuri did – what way was that? When the banquet had happened, he hadn’t known Victor after all. He’d just been an unreachable idol, a possible rival, a stranger.

Clearly, that wasn’t what the other man meant. Of course, Yuuri had admired him then, but now it was more, had been more for a long time.

Yuuri loved Victor – he was certain that the other man felt the same for all that they never really spoke the words. Their rings were proof enough. Back then though, they’d danced, they’d kissed, Victor had said Yuuri had made him cry.

Laying in the dark next to a softly snoring Victor, it made no sense.


	59. Chapter 59

It still didn’t make sense when he woke up with a rather insistent erection pressed against his back, but at least he had a distraction to focus on. Turning in the hold of the other man, Yuuri woke him with a kiss.

The casual intimacy of it made him feel warm inside, with little time left for his contemplations from last night. He hadn’t come to any sort of helpful conclusion, but what mattered was the here, the now… Victor.

Said man was blinking awake, leisurely kissing Yuuri back. They both had morning breath, but neither cared much, too caught up in the easy intimacy between them. Victor stretched, his body brushing tantalizingly against Yuuri’s.

“Good morning! Would you like to… cuddle a bit?” The Russian purred. Yuuri was tempted, of course, so tempted, but alas – “We’ll miss our flight. We need to pack if we want to make it back in time you know.”

“We can always get a later flight…” “Or we could get this one and ‘cuddle’ back home?” Contrary to his words, he ran a hand down Victor’s chest, feeling the relaxed muscles under his skin. The other felt heavenly.

“Mhh, you’re not helping your case you know.” 

Chuckling, Yuuri drew him into another kiss that made his toes curl before pulling back and rolling to his back. “Do you want the bathroom first?” Victor pouted, but shook his head – they both knew he’d take longer.

Standing up a bit awkwardly, Yuuri walked to the bathroom and slowly shut the door behind himself before taking off his boxers and stepping into the shower. He was pleasantly sore as was often the case after competitions, but he was also happy – he hadn’t failed, he’d set himself a goal and he’d met it.

He was… he could do it. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

And as for Victor… With a sigh, he wrapped a hand around himself – the thought of the other man doing the same thing in the bedroom succeeded in drawing his mind away from ice skating entirely.

In an embarrassingly short time, he finished, just standing under the hot water for a few minutes before towelling off and going back to the bedroom.  
As expected, Victor was already half-dressed, only the look he gave Yuuri as he came back from the bath revealing the fact that he had touched himself as well. Shivering lightly, Yuuri picked up the clothes that had been set out for him – Victor would forever be the one with more style after all – and putting them on.

He wasn’t looking forward to the trip back, but he WAS looking forward to being back home with Makka and Victor – St. Petersburg had long since become home to him, and he missed it almost as much as he missed his family sometimes.


	60. Chapter 60

It was at the airport that Yuuri realised that something was up and that Victor was acting… shifty. He’d insisted that Yuuri wait with their carry-on luggage while he checked in their two large suitcases. That in itself made little sense since Yuuri spoke Japanese, but when the man returned and shuffled him straight to a gate without so much as letting Yuuri see the tickets or board to confirm the Russian had gotten it right, it was pretty obvious that he was hiding something.

Yuuri found himself bundled in Victor’s coat in the waiting area for the flight – in a corner, with headphones on, at Victor’s request. It was all quite strange… but then, every now and again so was Victor, and Yuuri trusted him.

The strangeness continued once they were on the plane – first class, obviously, no matter how much Yuuri tried to insist that economy was FINE, thank you very much. He had to admit though, the relative silence and added space were nice – not that he got to enjoy the latter what with Victor plastered to his side the entire time.

Though, he enjoyed that too, so who was he to complain?

He figured it out maybe fifty minutes after take-off when a familiar shift in the plane revealed that the plane was pushing out its landing gear… a good ten hours before schedule. Pulling off the headphones for the first time since they’d set foot on the plane, he opened his mouth to ask Victor what was going when he caught the end of an intercom announcement – “enjoy your time in Osaka!”

Having just left Nagasaki for a Paris layover, that was an unexpected announcement, to say the least.

“Victor?” The Russian grinned. “Yes?” “Aren’t we supposed to be on the way to-” He didn’t get to finish before Victor’s grin widened into a happy smile. “It was a surprise! We’re not going home yet. I thought you might want to visit your family.”

Yuuri was floored – yes, he missed them from time to time, but…

“When did you plan this?” The older of the two skaters shrugged at the question. “I didn’t, actually. When I went to book the flights back, I saw that one leg of the journey was booked out… so we had a day and a half to spend somewhere. At first, I thought I could show you Paris or maybe Berlin but then… I figured you would like this better.”

Silence fell between them, both men staring at each other.

Only the impact of the plane touching down a few minutes later broke the tension between them. “Victor, that’s…” The other man cleared his throat. “Are you…mad?”

Was he mad that Victor had thought to surprise him by spending time with his family rather than taking him somewhere else? Was he mad that the other had been thoughtful enough to have the idea and clever enough to fool Yuuri as well as he had?

Yeah, right.


	61. Chapter 61

“Thank you. It means… a lot to me?” Yuuri didn’t like how choked off his voice sounded but he couldn’t help it either. Victor’s knowing look made it a touch better – not an ounce of judgement there.

“I know you miss them sometimes… besides, you’ve won! You deserve katsudon and your mother’s is just the best!” Laughing at the childish excitement on Victor’s face, he reached for the other’s hand.

“I…thank you.” Yuuri swallowed thickly before continuing. “This means a lot to me? Just… thank you.” Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s knuckles. “I’m glad you like my surprise. I’ve arranged for a cab to take us straight to the inn. We should be there in time for lunch… and our flight back is tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have a layover still, but it’s only two hours.”

Yuuri nodded along with the words, before following the older man out of the plane in an almost trance. The cab ride to his parents was silent as well, only interrupted by Victor occasionally laughing at whatever social media posts he was looking at on his phone.

Not interested in social media, Yuuri looked out the window instead, occasionally (okay, frequently) sneaking glances at Victor. He only had so much willpower after all. The ride passed faster than expected, and before long, the familiar roads of Hasetsu came into view.

The painful nostalgia and regret he’d felt when he’d last made that exact journey – after his injury – was gone entirely, with only anticipation and happiness to replace it. 

Yuuri’s heart was beating in his throat when they stepped across the porch of his childhood home, not knowing what to expect exactly.


	62. Chapter 62

Well, whatever he might have expected, it wasn’t what greeted him.

His family, Minako, the Nishigoris… they were all there, waiting. He could hardly credit the fact that Minako was holding up a banner with his name on it and that every available surface in the dining hall was plastered in posters and merchandise… of him.

He’d known, of course, that his family would be watching and they had sent him congratulatory texts but… but Victor had to have called ahead for them to expect him like this. Warmth filled his stomach and a wave of affection squeezed his heart…

And then Minako was on him with a squeal, hugging him, praising him and criticising his stiff posture and awful musicality all at once. His mother wasn’t far behind, hugging him as soon as Minako let go of him and latched onto Victor.

Victor… who had greeted the rest of the assembled people by now and was dealing with the Nishigori triplets jumping up and down in excitement. Yuuri suddenly felt the irrational urge to marry the man on the spot.

No, it was still far too soon for that… for now, anyway.

Under a flurry of congratulations and praise, he was ushered to a table where a bowl of piping hot katsudon appeared seemingly out of thin air. Digging into it, he was relatively sure it had never tasted better, especially when Victor sat with him, a touch too close, thighs touching.

It was wonderful, Yuuri could barely hold back tears – why had he even thought to refuse going back to competing?


	63. Chapter 63

He got the answer to that question two weeks later.

Back in Russia, he had thrown himself back into training, motivated by his previous success… only to find that apparently, his success had only raised the expectations Victor and Yakov had of him. It was… tiring, to say the least.

As soon as they’d resumed training, Victor had insisted he improve his jumps to be the ones Victor had put in when he had been skating it. That was a problem for two reasons – first off, Yuuri only had one quad and the free alone had three, and secondly, Yuuri wanted to add his own flair to the routine.

It being Victor’s work, he knew he could win if he managed to put it off, but… Yuuri still wanted to succeed by his own merit. He was sure Victor felt the same – the man hadn’t once mentioned using the notes in Yuuri’s notebook again after their falling out over the topic of Yuuri competing.

Sure, he hadn’t actually seen Victor skate his own new routine either, but that was mostly coincidence because of their training schedules – Yuuri’s was still more punishing than Victor’s.

At least, that was what he’d thought. Then, Victor refused his request to accompany him to a Eurasian championship competition the other was taking part in. It would have only meant missing training for a day, but the Russian steadfastly refused.

So, Yuuri ended up alone in Victor’s flat with Makka for two days. He trained with the Russian Yuri and Mila, as Georgi was also participating in the event. Yuuri found himself falling more than ever, worried about why Victor didn’t want him to come along, didn’t want him to watch him skate.

After a particularly nasty fall on an attempted quad Salchow, Yuri Plisetsky snarled at him to go home, and with the way his hip hurt, he decided to heed his advice. So, after applying muscle gel to what was sure to be a sizeable bruise, Yuuri laid on the couch with Makkachin and googled Victor’s performance. After finding a high enough quality stream, he settled in to watch the short program the man had skated earlier.

It took him maybe fifteen seconds to realise what he was looking at.

His own work. The first steps and jump combo had been taken straight from his notebook, only adjusted a little for the faster tempo of the song Victor had chosen. It made sense now – he hadn’t wanted Yuuri to figure out that he had, in fact, ended up using some of the notes from the little book.

Yuuri was impressed – Victor had only seen it once, to Yuuri’s knowledge.

Then, as he watched more and more of the performance, Yuuri fished the book out of his backpack, occasionally flipping pages to check, but by the time the music ended, it was clear – Victor had only used elements from the book, at best lightly changed them to make them fit together.

As if on cue, his phone rang.


	64. Chapter 64

Yuuri nearly dropped it in his haste to answer the call. Victor – of course. How had he even known?

Gulping, he held the phone to his ear. “Hello, Victor?” “Yuuri! How are you?” “I’m fine – congratulations on your score in the short.” Silence fell for a moment. “You watched my performance?” 

He’d been Victor’s fan since he’d been a child. Of course he had.

“Just now, actually. You were brilliant.” Victor sighed over the phone, and Yuuri could just imagine the pinched expression he likely had. “Well, I was hoping to avoid this, but I suppose that was hoping too much.” “Is that why you didn’t want me to come along?”

The other man laughed unexpectedly. “No, of course not. I told you I’d use your notes for my performance. I was never hiding it.” “Then why?” Another sigh. “So you could focus on your own training. Mila called earlier… are you hurt?”

Oh. He knew.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bruise. I was so worried you didn’t want me with you that I couldn’t concentrate at all.” Pointed silence told him Victor’s opinion on that matter. “Well, I’ll be back home tomorrow evening. Focus on your footwork and don’t try jumping again for now – when Yakov and I are back, we’ll work on your technique. Georgi can jump the Salchow too, so we can probably find a way to teach you.”

Straightening up on the couch, Yuuri frowned.

“Aren’t you staying for the banquet tomorrow?” “No. I’d rather come back and teach you the quad Salchow.” After a beat, he added; “Besides, without you here, there’s no way I’ll enjoy it.”

Half-pacified, Yuuri smiled weakly. Before they could continue their conversation though, Yakov’s distinct yelling interrupted them and Victor had to excuse himself.

Just as well.

Yuuri hung up and immediately dialled another number. He had work to do, and he needed help doing it.

Yuri Plisetsky had NOT been pleased when Yuuri had called him two hours after his training ended and asked to meet again at the rink. He’d been even less amused when Yuuri had made his actual request of him, and to say that he had spent the next four hours yelling every word out of his mouth would not be an understatement.

Yuuri put up with it. He grit his teeth and ignored every barb and bite, focusing only on the constructive parts of what the other said.

It was well after midnight when they parted ways, Yuri refusing Yuuri’s offer to walk him home so he wouldn’t have to go alone.

They did, however, part with the promise to meet again at six in the morning the next day – two hours before the earliest practice session at the rink began and given that half the skaters were away, a good two more hours before anyone was likely to show up.

It was perfect.

By the time lunch rolled around the second day, Yuuri was a walking bundle of pain and bruises. Despite having been a professional athlete for the majority of his adult life, he still felt like things he hadn’t even known he had hurt.

Both Yuri’s ate together in the changing room, mostly in silence until the younger of the two broke it.

“So… why now?” “Ah? Oh, it was something that Victor said.” The blonde scoffed. “So you’re learning it for him?” “Of course not. I want to learn it for myself but… I want to prove to him that I can do things on my own, you know?”

Yuri nodded after a moment, then shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You still fall almost every time you jump. What do you think will have changed by tomorrow morning? Two days is not enough time to master this.”

Yuuri set his spoon down and sighed. “I know that, I do. I just… I owe it to myself to try. Even if I don’t succeed, I have to try my hardest.”

When no reply came, he looked up and found that the other Yuri was studying him closely.

“You know… you may be a garbage skater, but you have the right attitude. I hope you’ll be able to show Victor. That’ll make it much better when I then show up both of you!” If it hadn’t been for the spark of amusement in the other’s voice, Yuuri would have probably taken the word as a challenge – as it was, he just smiled and wished the other good luck in his endeavour.

Naturally, that set him off again, yelling so loudly Mila came to check on them.


	65. Chapter 65

Victor’s return was about as anti-climactic as it could be. He came home when Yuuri was napping on the couch, exhausted from his extracurricular lessons with the other Yuri, and thus slept through the man’s arrival entirely.

He slept through Victor greeting Makka, through the other man placing a soft blanket on him, and even through getting a kiss on the forehead from Victor. What ultimately woke him was the sound of the fridge opening, coupled with the fact that he was quite hungry.

Blearily blinking away the sleep in his eyes, he fished for his glasses, only to find them placed on his nose by familiar hands.

“Vitya! You’re back!”

The Russian chuckled. “Yes, and what a welcome it has been… You, asleep on the couch, didn’t even wake up when I kissed you, and Makka, my ‘loyal’ dog, sleeping right next to you and ignoring me too!”

Victor dramatically swept his hair from his forehead and sighed loudly. 

“You know it wasn’t like that! I’m sorry I didn’t wake up. Welcome home.” The fake-hurt expression on Victor’s face melted into one of genuine happiness. “I love hearing that you know. How did training go?”

Instead of answering, Yuuri leaned back and pulled the hem of his sweatpants down, just exposing his right hipbone, and the purple bruise just under it. Whistling, Victor poked it, making Yuuri flinch. “That’s quite an impressive one! Did you put cream on it already?”

Hastily pulling his pants back up, Yuuri nodded. “Yes… twice per day. It hurts a little but I’m sure it’ll be gone soon. Congratulations on winning first place. I’m proud of you.”

The pink flush on Victor’s cheeks rather startled him, as did the obvious surprise on the man’s face.

“Did I say something wrong?” “Oh no, not at all. I just… I’m happy to hear you say that. Have you eaten? I could go for some leek chicken maybe?” With that, the man turned away and looked back into the fridge.

Yuuri lightly shook his head as Victor fished for ingredients from the fridge. They had quite a few things to discuss with each other, assuming Yuuri had the courage to bring them up. Grateful for a chance to procrastinate, he folded the blanket and then deftly grabbed a knife from Victor’s hands and set to chopping ingredients.

“I’m starving.”


	66. Chapter 66

Procrastination turned into outright avoidance by the time they’d eaten and Victor purred into Yuuri’s ear that he wanted to give him a massage. So, Yuuri found himself face down on the bed, Victor straddling his ass and working some sort of nice-smelling oil into his tired muscles.

It was heavenly, both having the man back and getting relief from his sore muscles. Victor was enjoying it too, if the way he occasionally rubbed himself against Yuuri was any indication. No way would Yuuri mess up the mood with a serious conversation.

Of course, the next morning, when he woke up to Victor kissing a line down his spine, that was about the furthest thing from his mind as well, and by the time they reached the rink, he had to admit he was outright avoiding bringing it up.

Training itself was… tense. Victor was as harsh as usual in his comments, and perhaps even more critical of every mistake he made. Yuuri managed to keep calm for most of the day – it wasn’t until the end of his own training session, and the beginning of Victor’s that he hit his boiling point.

The older skater was complaining about stiff footwork when Yuuri KNEW he had done fine, and something in Yuuri shifted.

His hand snapped to cover Victor’s mouth mid-complaint, and for a moment, they both stood frozen like that, shock and anger warring in them both. Eventually, Yuuri’s hand dropped. Before he could think to apologise to the other, the man huffed.

“Oh? Think you’re above my critiques now?” “N-No, of course not, but… You were being mean.” “Mean? I’m trying to help you! I just-” Yuuri shook his head, cutting him off. “No, you weren’t. I know when you try to help and just now you were just… my step sequence was fine and you KNOW it.”

Crossing his arms, Victor stood a little taller. “Is that so? What do you think you know then? You still can’t land your Salchow.”

Yuuri didn’t actually respond, simply turned and pushed off. He knew better than to attempt a jump when he was in the wrong mindset… well, usually anyway. Then and there he was just pissed off. He sped up, more than he usually did, and without so much as looking back at Victor, launched into the jump, not an ounce of hesitation before taking off.

He knew it would be perfect before he landed.

He was right.

For perhaps the third time in his entire skating career, Yuuri Katsuki landed a quad Salchow, and he did so in front of Victor. He just about managed to turn around, when with a loud “Wow!” Victor jumped him. The older and heavier man hardly paid any mind to the fact that they were both on skates, he simply expected Yuuri to catch him.

Of course he did, hugging Victor back, confusion overwhelming his anger.

What in the word was going on?


	67. Chapter 67

“I just KNEW you were the stubborn type! You know, I was wondering how much further I was going to have to push you before you’d finally give it your best!”

“I… you… what?” He could only stutter even as Victor held him close.

“Well, you weren’t making progress even though you practised, so I thought it may be just a mental barrier that was keeping you from succeeding… I was right.” Gaping at the older man, Yuuri could barely muster a response.

“You mean… you’ve been complaining for no reason just to provoke me?” Victor shrugged and released Yuuri. “Not for NO reason – I mean you need a lot of work if you want to live up to my program and make it to the Grand Prix finals, but yes, I thought you could use a little push.”

“I… I trained with Yuri Plisetsky the last two days. He helped me.” Victor nodded sagely. “Yes, I thought you may ask him for help. I’m glad you did – he seems to have done you good. Well, now that you’ve managed the Salchow on top of the toe loop, you should pick your next quad – which one do you want to try? The Lutz? The Loop? Or my flip?”

Whimpering slightly, Yuuri put a bit of distance between them.

“L-Look Victor, I only just landed it – I don’t know if I know it well enough for competition, not to mention, adding another one is just-” The other man grasped his hand and pressed a kiss to the ring on his finger.

“Now now, Yuuri, you should believe in yourself more. Which quad next?”

Gulping slightly, Yuuri pulled his hand back. “The… Lutz? I mean, the flip is your speciality.” Victor seemed disappointed for a moment, then smiled broadly. “Lutz it is. Why don’t you show me some triples?”

Sighing deeply, Yuuri stretched and did as instructed. He was well capable of jumping triple Lutzes, at least. Doing his best, he managed a good dozen repetitions with only minor mistakes before running out of breath. Of course, Victor’s unwavering attention on him had as much to do with that as the physical exertion did… but that was his own problem to deal with.

Indeed, the Russian seemed unusually chipper, even for him, for the rest of their practice. Their walk home was the same way – filled with laughter and pleasant conversation about nothing at all. Having not quite forgiven Victor just yet for his behaviour, Yuuri was confused by just how easily he ended up falling in with Victor’s pace, lured by the man’s open happiness.

Well, there was nothing for it. It was Victor after all.


	68. Chapter 68

Sadly, ‘Victor’s pace’ wasn’t really something he could keep up with on the ice. While he easily outdid the other when it came to stamina, the man’s constant criticisms could really wear on him some days.

It didn’t help that Yakov seemed entirely content to let Victor act like he was, only occasionally reminding the other to focus on his own skating as well from time to time. Most days, Yuuri was glad for it. He needed a challenge and what could be more motivating than his childhood idol’s words?

Well, other than his kisses, he was quite fond of those as well. 

Other days, the days he couldn’t make progress, Victor’s insistence that he focus on learning new jumps grated on him. Yes, he knew the choreography front to back and had found his footing in it long ago, but running it and only marking the jumps helped calm him some days… not that Victor Nikiforov, living legend, would understand that.

Still, a few more weeks passed until one morning – a bleary-eyed Yuuri could only just make out 3 something am on the clock – his phone rang. He switched it off, amused by the angry grumbling his sleeping partner gave – Victor didn’t like being woken early, and after spending nearly an hour making out like teenagers last night… well, they’d both been tired.

The phone rang again.

This time, he checked caller ID and nearly had a heart attack – it was Minako. Immediately terrified something was wrong with his parents, he scrambled out from under the covers and pressed the accept call button – it took his shaking fingers two tries to actually hit the green circle on his screen.

“Minako?” Bed-mate temporarily forgotten, Yuuri made no attempt to stay quiet, only vaguely aware of more grumbling from the bed.

“Yuuri? Is that you? Finally!” Shaking, he gripped the phone tighter. “Yes, yes, it’s me – is, what’s wrong? Is something wrong? Are mum, dad and Mari ok?” “Huh?” “Minako-sensei! Is everything okay? Why are you calling so early?”

“Early? It’s 9am- no wait never mind, doesn’t matter. Yuuri! Did you see?” Groaning, he sat on the edge of the bed. “Have I… have I seen what? What’s going on?” A high-pitched squeal nearly made him drop his phone. “They’re here! Yuuri they’ve made them! I can’t believe you haven’t looked!”

“MINAKO-SENSEI! It’s 3am here. What’s going on?” After a moment of silence, an only slightly calmer Minako cleared her throat. “Is it that early for you? Sorry, Yuuri… it’s the Grand Prix assignments, of course! Didn’t know they were released today?”

Taking a sharp breath, Yuuri tensed. No, he hadn’t, having deliberately not looked, not ready for the disappointment of not having been invited.

“Are they? Is… where is Victor assigned?” Minako sighed softly. “He’s in Skate America and the Cup of China.” Yuuri smiled softly. “That’s, that’s great. He’ll be excited.” 

As if on cue, arms wrapped around his middle and a face pressed against his back. Minako, in the meantime, just huffed in annoyance. “Is that all you have to say?” “Well, I mean, if he was in the NHK Trophy, maybe we could have come to visit and-”

“YUURI!” She practically screeched. “Uh, yes?” Sitting up straighter, Yuuri tried to ignore how Victor pulled himself up and placed his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Victor isn’t in the NHK trophy… but you are.”

He dropped the phone.


	69. Chapter 69

The next few minutes were a blur to Yuuri even as he was living them. After nearly hitting Victor in the face with his elbow as he dove for his phone – something Makka took as an invitation to pounce of course – a stuttering Yuuri asked Minako to repeat herself.

She did, a total of three times before she told him to cut it out already and to calm himself down. After hanging up the call, Yuuri just sat there, dumbfounded, still on the floor, staring up at an equally amused and worried Victor.

“Is…is everything okay? Did something happen?” Victor asked, worry clear on his face. It took Yuuri a remarkably long time to figure out that he and Minako had spoken in Japanese and Victor hadn’t understood.

Flushing slightly, he shook his head frantically.

“No! No, it’s nothing! I mean, it’s something but nothing bad. It was Minako. She called me… called to tell me the Grand Prix assignments were out.” Victor sighed in relief at Yuuri’s words.

“So, where did you get assigned to? Are we in the same ones or different ones? I hope it’s the same ones so we can go together!”

Yuuri stared in awe at the Russian.

Not for a moment did the man seem to have considered the possibility of Yuuri not having received a spot, despite the fact that he was far from a shoo-in, so to speak. But… he HAD gotten a spot. Him, Yuuri Katsuki. He’d gotten a second chance. It wasn’t over. He was going to the Grand Prix again… with Victor by his side.

Big, fat tears started rolling down his cheeks and Victor scrambled to hug him, nearly fighting Makka for enough space to do so.

“Yuuri! Don’t cry! It’s okay if we’re not in the same ones! It’s only a few days we’ll be apart for! I’ll definitely come to see yours anyway, so don’t be upset!” Tightly embracing the older man, Yuuri thanked whatever higher power had made him hammer back champagne at that banquet last year.

“I’m… I’m in the NHK trophy. Minako didn’t tell me what the other one was. You’re in Skate America and the Cup of China.” Victor pulled back and gave him a beaming smile before snatching Yuuri’s phone and tapping away at it. It only took him moments to look up the assignments himself.

“You are in the NHK trophy… and Skate America! We have one of the qualifiers together! Oh, that means we get to compete twice, once in the finals and once at Skate America! Oh Yuuri, it’ll be so much fun!” Unable to credit the other man’s assumption he’d make it to the final again somehow, Yuuri just nodded.

“Oh no, looks like Yura and Georgi are both at different competitions. Yura has the Rostelekom cup and Skate Canada… and Georgi has the Trophee and NHK as well. What about… oh, Chris has the Trophee and NHK trophy! These assignments are great, Yuuri!” When he didn’t reply, Victor pulled his attention away from the phone.

“…Yuuri?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a list of all the assignments for the characters for this season, to give you an overview (order of skaters is random, this is NOT their placements ;-)):
> 
> Rostelekom:  
> Phichit  
> Yuri   
> JJ  
> Emil
> 
> Trophee Eric Bompard:  
> Chris   
> Georgi   
> Otabek   
> Michele
> 
> Skate Canada:  
> Phichit   
> Yuri   
> Guang Hong   
> Cao Bin
> 
> Cup of China:  
> Victor   
> Otabek   
> Seung-Gil  
> Cao Bin  
> Leo 
> 
> NHK Trophy:  
> Yuuri   
> Georgi  
> Chris   
> Leo  
> Guang Hong 
> 
> Skate America:  
> Yuuri   
> Victor   
> JJ   
> Michele  
> Emil


	70. Chapter 70

He felt like a puppet with his strings cut, that was all he could think of when Victor ushered him to the kitchen and made him a cup of tea. He was still staring at the cup, not at all listening to Victor’s excited chatter, first in English, then in Russian. He knew it wasn’t all directed at him and that the older man wasn’t really expecting a reply anyway. 

All the better for it – he didn’t have it in himself to maintain a conversation. In a moment of clarity, he’d checked and seen that his friend Phichit had qualified as well – Skate Canada and Rostelekom Cup. He wasn’t all that surprised that they weren’t assigned together… if anything, he was more surprised that he would be with Victor at Skate America.

He was in the Grand Prix again. He had another chance.

Things were a blur all the way until they were at the rink for training later. Just about everyone he knew had congratulated him, some people multiple times. The only one who hadn’t had been Yuri – though, perhaps the teenager's order to ‘better make it to the final so I can crush you’ was congratulations in their own right.

Phichit had just texted him exclamation marks, followed by a gif of him (at least Yuuri thought it was him, because who else would do such a thing?) skating in a hamster onesie.

Once he stepped foot on the ice, it seemed like the world came into sharper focus, like time sped up and back to its usual speed. Victor’s comforting hand on his back helped too, of course, but the familiar chill of the ice beneath him felt like it woke him up from a dream he hadn’t realised he’d been dreaming.

He pushed off and just like that, the world seemed a little bit brighter again.

He loved skating. He loved competing, despite his stage fright. He loved… Victor.

Turning around, he wasn’t in the least bit surprised when Victor made eye contact with him instantly. In fact, it was the other that was surprised when Yuuri winked at him and pushed off – into a quad Lutz.

Well, an attempt at one. He wiped out rather pathetically, but he got all the rotations in – still progress from the last time he’d tried it. He hadn’t even managed to get back up when familiar laughter echoed across the ice.

“Oh, Yuuri… that was AWFUL! You’ll need to train a LOT more if you want to beat me at Skate America!”

It was right around then that Yuuri realised Victor was going to be even harder on him than he had been before… and that he’d need it. Resigned to his fate, Yuuri accepted Victor’s hand and let himself be pulled up. He’d be alright, he was sure of it.


	71. Chapter 71

As expected, training for the first of his competitions was gruelling. With the order of competitions being as it was – Rostelekom, Trophee Eric Bompard, Skate Canada, Cup of China, NHK Trophy and then Skate America – he had a bit more time than the others.

Still, he was also starting from a worse place – while his ankle gave him no troubles any more, he was well aware that over six months of no training had taken their toll on his technical skills. Still, the motivation that burned in him and spurred him on was something he wasn’t really used to.

It helped though – a lot.

There were a little under five weeks to the first of the six competitions – the Rostelekom Cup. Despite it being in Russia, Victor had put his foot down and forbidden Yuuri from attending – he’d played with the thought to go and see Phichit and Yuri compete, not realising that with how gigantic Russia was, it wouldn’t quite be the day trip he’d thought it would be.

With that plan cancelled, Yuuri decided to focus on the first competition that was truly important to him: The Cup of China, Victor’s first assessment. The man was up against some familiar names, not a single one of them a threat though – not that there really was anyone who was. Maybe Chris Giacometti, on his better days. Maybe.

Anyway, Yuuri already knew Victor would excel – what he didn’t know was whether or not the other would let him come along and watch the competition. There were only days between the Cup of China and the NHK Trophy – not a lot of time at all, and critical practice time.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried.

When Yuuri brought it up after carefully plying Victor with wine and neck massages, the other man just laughed.

“Of course you’re coming with me! We can fly to Japan from Hong Kong so it saves us a flight!” That was that – Yuuri was accompanying Victor and, from the sound of it, Victor was going to go to the NHK Trophy with Yuuri.

Not that he didn’t want that – it was just that even sitting on their couch, holding hands with Victor, he could feel his anxiety creep back up. What if he didn’t measure up? What if-

“Are you coming to bed Yuuri? I’d really like to return that massage favour now if you’d like…”


	72. Chapter 72

Watching the other competitions while training his own routines was bittersweet. While he enjoyed watching, seeing the incredibly performances people gave also scared him – how was he supposed to keep up with that?

In the meantime, Victor just kept going on about how he was looking forward to the final together. It wasn’t ignorance – he’d confided in Victor that he was worried and not feeling that confident – but simply complete disregard of what the Russian had called ‘baseless worries’.

If it had been someone other than Victor, Yuuri would have probably been offended, but as it was, he knew it was an attempt to encourage him. The fact that Victor believed in him even when Yuuri didn’t was… He struggled to believe it on his better days. On his worse ones, it just seemed completely bizarre.

The Rostelekom Cup saw several skaters Yuuri knew competing – both Phichit and Yuri Plisetsky took part in it. Yuuri didn’t know who to root for out of the both of them – after training with the Russian for so long, they had grown quite friendly, but Phichit had been his friend first – it didn’t help that both of them skated really well.

It was Yuri that had the edge though, taking 2nd place ahead of Phichit’s 3rd. Canadian skater JJ took 1st place – according to Yuri once he came back, this was ‘clearly a mistake from the judges because how could they let a monkey on the ice?’. Nevertheless, the Canadian deserved his win – at least Yuuri thought so.

The French competition was one that Victor watched particularly closely, what with being friends with Chris. The results of it were utterly unsurprising – Chris took the top spot with quite the points margin, followed by Georgi and Otabek Altin, a Kazakh skater in 2nd and 3rd place.

Yuuri had honestly been a bit uncomfortable when watching Chris’ performance – the man was very… mature when skating. Victor, clearly aware of Yuuri’s discomfort had snickered and suggested including similar moves if the other ‘liked them so much’ – Yuuri’s brain had nearly exploded at the thought of Victor skating like that. It really wasn’t something he wanted to see.

It did, however, remind him of something he’d managed to forget about until that point.

“Victor… do you know someone I could go to for a costume design?” “Hm? You don’t have your own designer?” Cringing slightly, he shook his head. “No…I’ve been so pre-occupied I didn’t think about it at all.”

The Russian shrugged. “I’ll give a call to my designer then, I’m sure she’ll do me a favour and make something for you. Or… do you just want what I had her design for those routines when I thought I was going to skate them?”

Vivid flashbacks to some of the costumes Victor had worn over his long career flashed through Yuuri’s mind.

“N-No, I think I’d like something that’s more like…me?” Victor shot him a wink and pulled out his phone. The call didn’t even take a minute.

“All arranged – Anna will be here tomorrow to take your measurements and discuss designs with you.” “Ah, I, uh, what? T-tomorrow? So quickly? And she’ll come here?” Victor shook his head. “What’s the problem? It’s a rest day for you, no? She always visits me. She says it’s a service, but I think she just likes petting Makka.”

Now that, Yuuri could understand.

They settled back down to watch the end of the French competition – unsurprisingly Chris’ exhibition routine was even worse than his competition one. If anything, they seemed more suggestive than they had been the year before – knowing Yuuri was up against one of the best skaters after Victor in the circuit was… daunting to say the least.

He didn’t want to think about what he’d do if he didn’t qualify for the final after Victor had invested so much time into him…

“How about pink rhinestones and sequins?” Yuuri’s head snapped around towards the Russian. “Pardon?” “Oh, I was just thinking about your costume… I think I’ll text Anna some suggestions-”

“Victor, NO!”


	73. Chapter 73

The designer that knocked on Victor’s door the next day was nothing like what Yuuri expected. With Victor off at the rink, Yuuri was alone for the first time in a while and it felt odd to welcome a guest.

Anna was a well-dressed woman in her late twenties, overall looking more like a receptionist than the sort of person that designed figure skating costumes. She was, however, unfailingly polite and more than accommodating of Yuuri’s wishes.

Having had his coaches decide on his costumed before, it was unfamiliar territory to share his own thoughts for once. Still, Anna listened patiently as he explained that he liked dark understated colours and wasn’t one for revealing costumes.

He was a bit surprised when she pulled out a folder with previous costume designs he’d worn and suggested things based on them. It was a far more… fun process than Yuuri had expected, really.

They settled on something relatively plain, in Yuuri’s opinion – a black bodysuit with a sheer mesh gap along the top of his shoulders and arms as well as a low front. The bodice would be covered in what Anna assured him where small and quite subtle rhinestones, with a line of larger ones running down the side of his pants leg, for that extra bit of sparkle, as she’d put it.

Yuuri liked it – it sounded a little like a more subtle version of a black and sheer costume Victor had worn for his senior debut, minus the half-skirt. As for his second costume – she suggested something a bit more whimsical and he found himself willing to take the risk on her idea. A gradient blue-to-white top with flared sleeves was a little out of his comfort zone but it also sounded like it might look good on him – he found himself agreeing to the idea, heart beating fast.

She was more than willing to accommodate his one request on the matter – he wanted the shirt to be loose on him, the bottom blue and fading to white around mid-chest rather than having the top half blue and bottom half white as Anna suggested. The subtle dark grey pants they easily agreed on.

Just like that, they were done in a little under an hour – Anna promised to have his costumes ready within the week. She’d already taken his measurements and there would still be time for alterations if any were needed – still, Yuuri felt surprisingly confident in both outfits after meeting Anna.

When he texted Victor as much, all he got in response was a winking emoji and a heart. When he followed that up with snapshots of Anna’s sketches from earlier, he got several more hearts – the older man’s fondness for them still amused him as much as it made him smile every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference Short costume: https://media.npr.org/assets/artslife/arts/2010/03/weir-6bb2a75c3b0f5d729d6e17b9ae0a7bf83aae9813-s800-c85.jpg This but with none of the pink and a few more rhinestones.
> 
> Free Costume: http://i72.fastpic.ru/big/2015/0524/ee/d5c7d8829ae05a630d304c832463d2ee.jpg This but without all the rhinestones.


	74. Chapter 74

By the time Skate Canada rolled around, Yuuri was worried he might not be ready for his own competitions in time. He was progressing, was improving, but not at the pace he’d have liked. Seeing Yuri and Victor excel next to him was tough some days.

Skate Canada once again had Yuri AND Phichit competing. Despite Phichit’s insistence that this time he’d defeat the Russian, he ended up coming in several points below him again. Phichit narrowly made it into 2nd place, with Chinese skater Guang Hong only two points behind in 3rd place. Yuuri was, of course, overjoyed for the young Russian’s win, but he was also a bit disappointed for Phichit – depending on how some of the other competitions went, his old friend might not make it to the finals.

The Thai skater seemed a lot less worried than Yuuri in that regard – he was happy with his performances and he had every reason to be – he’d done extremely well with his ‘King and the Skater’ inspired performances.

And then… then it was time. With only two days before the Cup of China, Yuuri, Victor and Yakov got on a plane headed for Hong Kong. First-class as always when Victor got to book the tickets, Yuuri found it hard to sleep despite the long flight. His own competition was so close – Victor had confirmed ahead of time that he’d be able to use the rink to train as long as none of the competitors in the cup needed it – and it was becoming more and more real by the day.

Victor was, of course, utterly unconcerned. And why not – with him, Otabek Altin, Seung-Gil Lee, Cao Bin and Leo de Iglesia being the biggest skaters in the competition, first place was pretty much decided. That didn’t stop Yuuri from worrying though, right up until the morning of the short, when Yuuri woke up to Victor already in his competition costume, adjusting his hair in front of the hallway mirror.  
Despite Yakov’s protest, they had insisted on sharing a room. Yuuri had almost felt bad for the man… until he saw Victor standing there like that. His heart suddenly lodged in his throat, he couldn’t even open his mouth to speak… not until Victor turned and broke the silence first.

“Good morning my sleeping beauty! I thought you were going to miss my performance.” “You look beautiful!” Yuuri blurted out instead of an actual, sensible response. They both coloured a bit, though Yuuri was sure Victor’s pink flush looked better on him than Yuuri’s red face did.

“Thank you. You like the costume then?” Victor twirled on the spot, pink fabric clinging to him in just the right way. The outfit was part purple, part pink part white mesh inserts that made Yuuri gulp. They ran down his chest, his side and down his thigh, decorated with a few pink ruffles around his midsection. It was beautiful.

Of course, he’d seen it before, but never actually in person. Before he knew it he was standing next to the Russian, studying it up close. Even with just a few inches between them, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to… touch.

Taking a deep breath, he stretched out his hand and splayed it across Victor’s chest. The man didn’t back away, merely smiled. “You’ll be spectacular today, I know it.” The Russian grinned. “Oh? Will I get a reward if I do?” Smiling, Yuuri looked at the contrast between the finger on his hand and the pink and white fabric on Victor’s chest.

“Well, I would but I’m not sure how I can top last time.” Victor wrapped his own hand around Yuuri’s, letting their rings make contact. “Mh, you can’t… but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy whatever you think of.” Yuuri pulled their hands to his own chest before pressing a kiss to Victor’s knuckles.

“Hm, I’m thinking several things right now, actually.” Victor chuckled at his words. “Would any of them get my costume dirty?” Linking their fingers, Yuuri shrugged.

“All of them.” Before Victor could reply, a loud banging on the door tore them from their musings – Yakov. It was time for warm-ups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s short outfit but in pink: https://districtramblings.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/johnny_weir.jpg?w=510   
> Victor’s free outfit but without the weird red glove and without the black criss-cross pattern:   
> http://p0.ipstatp.com/large/005a84347d4c00a4e529


	75. Chapter 75

Yuuri had never gotten dressed faster, simply pulling on the first set of clothes he found so that he could follow the two Russians to the prep area. Yakov had been kind enough to get him an all-access pass, meaning he was allowed rink-side along with Yakov.

It still felt surreal, watching Victor warm-up, headphones in, while he and Yakov were standing at the other side of the room.

“Katsuki.” The older Russian’s voice was gruff and unusually quiet. “Yes, coach?” The man gestured toward Victor. “Do you think you can beat him?” Yuuri shook his head furiously. “No way! He’s… I mean he’s Victor.”

Yakov sighed. “Do you WANT to beat him?” 

Yuuri studied his life-long idol for a moment. “I… yes, I want to. But more than that, I want to skate on the same ice as him.” “Not a bad answer, Katsuki. Vitya has been working a lot harder than usual. I think he thinks you could beat him.” 

“That’s… ridiculous. He’s always been better than me.” “Oh? Is that so? You don’t think he’s been training you to beat him, specifically? Katsuki, you’ve had better presentation scores across the board. The only thing you lack is technical elements. Jumps. He’s been drilling them into you, hasn’t he?”

Rubbing a bruise from his last attempt at a quad Lutz, Yuuri nodded. “Victor knows potential when he sees it. He thinks you could seriously defeat him… and it’s been motivating him. That and something else. I can’t tell what it is though.”

Gulping, Yuuri trained his eyes on Victor again. “I never thought I would say this to another skater, much less a male one living with my star pupil but… you’re good for him. Keep it up. Maybe one day you actually will beat him.”

“One day? You… don’t think I can do it in this Grand Prix?” Yakov laughed at his question. “Katsuki… you don’t even think you can do it yourself.” With that, the other man walked to Victor, speaking to him in rapid-fire Russian, while Yuuri remained behind, mulling over Yakov’s words.

The older man had a point – he DIDN’T believe that he could do it.

But if Victor thought so… Yuuri watched silently as Victor put on his skates and slipped out of his Olympian Russia jacket. Rather than handing it to Yakov as he’d seen the other do dozens of times, Victor handed it straight to him.

“Keep this warm for me, will you?” The words were accompanied by a wink before Victor stepped up to the ice and set one foot on it. Before Yuuri could stop himself, he’d already reached out and grasped Victor’s hand.

The Russian looked startled and if the flashes of cameras were anything to go by, the reporters watching thought so too. “Yuuri…?” He gulped, his hold on Victor tightening for a moment.

“You… you better do your best. I want to compete with you in the finals.” The beaming smile that answered him felt like sunshine on his skin. He watched, spell-bound, as Victor blew him a kiss and skated off to assume his position.

Heart nearly beating out of his chest, Yuuri watched as the man he loved started moving to the music, eyes soaking up every detail, every flick of the wrist and every beautiful expression on the man’s face.

By the time he came to a complete stop at the end of his performance, Yuuri was almost certain he broke his own records again. As soon as Victor stepped off the ice, Yuuri handed him his jacket and readily accepted when the man leaned down for a hug.

Yuuri could feel him breathing hard from the exertion and was reluctant to pull away, only doing so when Yakov cleared his throat. “Are you going to come to the Kiss&Cry with me, Yuuri?” He could hardly credit how hopeful Victor sounded.

“Of course.”


	76. Chapter 76

Victor had not, in fact, broken his own record.

He’d come close though, only a point away and past 100 points. Even Yakov had struggled to criticise him after the performance he’d put down. Yuuri in the meantime was walking on air as they headed back to the hotel after the performance. Having been the last one up, there were no other performances to watch, nothing else to do, really.

Back in the hotel room, Victor was quick to peel out of his costume and take a shower. When he was done, wrapped in one of the robes the hotel provided, he laid back on his half of the bed, Yuuri sitting next to him.

“That… today felt good.” “What do you mean Victor?” The older man rolled to his side and curled around Yuuri slightly. “Just that… skating isn’t always fun anymore. Sometimes it’s just something I do. But today felt different. What did you think of my performance?”

“You were wonderful.” Yuuri answered truthfully.

A satisfied hum was his only answer.

“About tomorrow’s free skate…” He began, unsure about how to ask the other skater about his program. “What is it?” “Are you looking forward to it?” Victor chuckled softly. “A little. I’m more looking forward to Skate America though.” 

“You really want to compete against me?” Yuuri asked, unable to keep himself from sounding incredulous. “Of course I do, my Yuuri. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since… since before you decided to skate again.”

Gently running a hand over Victor’s arm, Yuuri smiled down at the man. “Really? ALL you’ve been able to think about?” A slow smile spread across Victor’s features. “Well, I can think of a thing or two other than that.” Shifting across the bed, Yuuri ended up leaning above Victor, with the Russian sprawled on his back.

He looked entirely pleased to be in that position.

“Yuuuuri, don’t tell me you’re thinking about something… other as well?” Strong arms wrapped around his neck, and with little effort, Victor pulled himself up and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s lips. Holding the other man up wasn’t exactly easy in his current position, but well worth it.

Victor’s wet hair fanned out around him as he let himself drop down again.

“We’re in a hotel room together again.” He observed, feeling a little foolish for stating the obvious. “Yes we are.” “Neither of us are drunk this time.” Victor’s smile widened. “Also true. Are you trying to imply something here, Yuuri?”

“Would that be so bad?” Lithe and still damp legs wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, the gentle pressure making his head spin just a little.

“Mh, you know it wouldn’t, but I can’t exactly… exert myself before the Free tomorrow.” Yuuri’s breath hitched. “Are you implying that after, you could?” Victor pressed a finger to his lips and paused for a moment. “I’m not quite sure yet, but I’m leaning that way.”

The legs around Yuuri tightened and pulled their bodies closer together. “So the challenge is complete, then? Will you tell me what it is?” Victor chuckled softly. “Not… quite, but soon. I’m not ready yet. Can you… are you still willing to wait?”

Lowering himself in a sort of pseudo-push-up, Yuuri pressed a quick kiss to Victor’s forehead. “Of course I am. Whatever you need, and however long it takes.” They shared a soft smile, before, in a moment of clumsiness, Yuuri’s hand slipped on the covers and he fell straight onto Victor’s chest, his face colliding with his collarbone.

The Russian was laughing while Yuuri tried to scramble back up and off his partner. Somehow, he found himself struggling a fair bit – the fact that Victor was anything but cooperative in letting him get back up.  
By the time they were separated and laying next to each other on the bed, both of them were laughing and quite out of breath from the playfight. 

“I’ll wait however long you want me to. You’re worth it.”

They both shared a private smile before snuggling under the cover for an early night – neither Victor nor Yuuri wanted to risk oversleeping on the day of the Free skate.


	77. Chapter 77

Morning came quickly, despite a good night’s sleep. Given that Victor was in first place with over fifteen points head start, the man declared he’d rather spend his time watching Yuuri practice rather than train on his own. 

Of course, he was too pre-occupied with Victor’s upcoming performance to land anything above a triple jump. It was a bit of a vicious circle, but nowhere near as bad as it could be – both men were still rather… soft from their talk the night before.

By the time Victor – the last performer of the day – was up, Yuuri had a few new bruises and Victor had to redo his hair. Of course, Yuuri watched with rapt attention as the man put on his costume – the white feathers trailing down his chest and thigh were beautiful in combination with his silver hair.

Yuuri was spellbound even before Victor pressed a kiss to his cheek and stepped onto the ice in preparation of his performance. Yuuri was gripping the edge of the rink when Victor took his position to start.

He’d seen this performance only one before, on a choppy YouTube recording of Victor’s last performance. He knew that this one too was based on his own notebook. That alone made him feel antsy – he knew what was in that book, and he didn’t think it was worthy of being used like this, even after seeing how great the short performance had been.

The horn sounded, and Victor started moving. Yuuri’s breath hitched with every jump, every spin. The world narrowed to the rink and the man that skated like he owned it. As far as Yuuri was concerned – he did.

The way Victor presented the steps, the moves, Yuuri could hardly believe they were things he had come up with, picked and assembled by Victor. It had just been doodles, but watching them now, in what was clearly a gold-medal winning performance, it was different.

Yuuri was a little torn – seeing now the realised potential of his work, he was a little disappointed he hadn’t had more faith in his own work… yet there was no way he could be upset by what he saw before him either. It was everything he loved about skating – Victor, grace, music and pure movement.

It made Yuuri want to skate as well – he felt an almost physical desire to join Victor on the ice. It was absurd, of course, but it was also rather undeniable. For all that he’d admired Victor’s performance, he’d never felt quite like this.

Something was different, about the skating, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

Victor was always radiant, but he never performed like this… like he was doing it for the pure joy of it.  
Quite suddenly, their eyes met across the ice – only a fraction of a second, but it was deliberate, Yuuri could tell. Something in Victor’s eyes made him understand something – something about love, life and the importance of them.

He wasn’t sure… but Yuuri suddenly had a pretty good idea what that challenge was all about, and his heart soared for it.


	78. Chapter 78

By the time the applause sounded, everyone in that stadium knew that Victor Nikiforov had once again won a competition. The scores a few minutes later confirmed it – once again, points away from a new world record. Critics agreed that it was one of the best performances the man had given in some time, but Yuuri didn’t care about that.

He was torn between two things – his suspicions about the challenge… and the upcoming NHK trophy. With Victor having won the Cup of China, and well, him being Victor, he was all but guaranteed a spot in the finals. 

Since Otabek Altin won 2nd place, he too qualified for the final. In a surprise win, Leo de Iglesia beat his competition to third place – he too would be participating in the NHK trophy.

There was a little over a week between the two competitions, and as per Yakov’s request, they would spend the majority of it in Japan in order to let Yuuri prepare in a familiar environment. It was… well, it was more consideration than Yuuri had expected from the gruff Russian. It was… a pleasant surprise, to say the least.

Victor, funnily enough, seemed to take Yuuri’s competition more seriously than he had his own, non-stop suggesting improvements and tweaks to Yuuri’s performances. They hadn’t had a talk about the challenge yet, and it certainly wasn’t the right time for it, but Yuuri swore to himself that he would bring it up after the competition… or after Skate America, at the very least, not that he was procrastinating.

Training in Japan went rather uneventfully – Yuuri fell, Victor scolded and Yakov huffed. A lot.

With tensions rising in the face of Yuuri’s first competition as part of the Grand Prix, Yuuri did what he could to manage his anxiety – that is to say, he skated as much as possible and tried to think about things as little as possible.

While it didn’t work per se, it at least let him sleep – historically not something he did a lot right before a competition. This time though… things were different. Things felt different.

Well, right up until the morning of the day before the competition. Yuuri awoke to an empty bed, only a note on the bedside table proving that Victor had slept there. Unfortunately, the clearly hastily written note was in Russian – Yuuri had gotten a lot better at speaking in simple sentences, but his reading still wasn’t great… coupled with Victor’s atrocious handwriting, he had no hope of deciphering its contents.

So, he got dressed and went to knock on his coaches’ door. Yakov was quick to answer, his expression grim. “You found the note.” “Yes? I… It’s in Russian? What’s wrong? Where’s Victor?” Yuuri’s suspicion that something had to be wrong was deepening by the second.

“Victor is… he’s in Russia. Katsuki, come in and sit down.”

Knees weak with fear, Yuuri did as instructed.


	79. Chapter 79

“First off, you don’t need to worry. Vitya himself is fine, he’s not hurt. But you see, we got a call this morning… about Makkachin.”

With one sentence, Yakov shattered all the carefully crafted mental preparations that Yuuri had painstakingly put himself through for this event. Flashbacks to Vicchan, to the hell he’d gone through during the last Grand Prix, made him sick to his stomach.

“Is… is she okay? What’s wrong?” Yuuri looked down to see his hands shaking. “Katsuki, calm yourself. She’ll be fine. She didn’t… she refused to eat after you left for China and late last night she collapsed because of it. She’s with a vet and not in any danger, but Victor had to go back, you understand?”

Nodding dumbly, Yuuri forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Of course he understood. “She’s… okay? She’ll be okay?” Yakov nodded. “Vitya didn’t want to rob you of what little sleep you would get. The competition tomorrow… he probably won’t be back in time.”

Yuuri waved the other off. “That’s fine, it’s not a problem. I just… can I call him? I need to hear that Makka is okay… from him.” “He’s still travelling. I’ve instructed him to call me when he lands. You need to focus on your training. As soon as I hear from him, I will tell you.”

Nodding again, Yuuri resolutely stood. He knew what he had to do – he had to do his best. For Victor, for Makkachin and for himself.

“I’ll get my skates.”

“Katsuki, you can take today if you aren’t up to skating. There are other things you can do to prepare, and you can run through your program tomorrow morning-” “No! Coach… I want to do this. No, I can do this. Please let me.”

“Very well. Meet me in the breakfast hall in twenty minutes with your skates.” Yuuri went back to his room to change into his training clothes and pack what he needed, his hands still shaking. Makka… she was Victor’s dog, not his, but he still loved her dearly. He was torn between his own worry for her and his compassion for Victor – the man had to be beyond distraught.

Still, he had to focus on training, on preparing for his competitions or all of his hard work would have been for nothing. Resolutely, he headed out and downstairs to the breakfast area, where he forced himself to eat what Yakov put in front of him before following the Russian to the rink they’d been using.

Yuuri anticipated the moment he’d step on the ice, the moment things would change, the moment the ice would calm his mind like it always did.

That moment never came.


	80. Chapter 80

Yuuri wiped out on just about every jump. His step sequences were off, his sense of timing warped beyond even his worst attempts in years. He had to fight back tears more than once, every fall making him more determined to get it right, every new attempt demoralising him more.

It wasn’t long at all until Yakov told him to stop, told him he was doing more harm than good. He knew it too, of course he did, but… but he needed to not think.

In the end, it was a phone call that relieved him from his suffering. Yakov’s ringtone rang through the skating arena clear as a bell and, despite being halfway across the rink, it took Yuuri mere seconds to get over to where his coach was.

He didn’t need to ask if it was Victor, the other man's expression revealed it well enough. They were speaking in Russian, a fast conversation well beyond what his basic skills could have picked up even if he hadn't been stressed to the point of nearly breaking. He could only just make out Victor's voice on the other end, tinny and a bit distorted, but still comforting in a way he hadn't dared to even hope for. Gulping, he prepared himself for what Yakov would have to say to him once their conversation was over.

The phone call lasted less than a minute, though it felt more like an hour to Yuuri. When he’d hung up, Yakov turned to him and sighed. “Vitya got back okay. He’s with Makka. They put her on fluids, gave her some medication and are keeping her for observation. Vitya says she’ll be fine.”

“What about Victor? Will he… how is he holding up?” The old Russian gave him a surprisingly gentle smile. “What do you think? He’s upset. He did tell me to keep you off the ice until the competition. Given how you’ve been doing, I agree. Skates off, Katsuki, you’re banned from the ice until warm-ups tomorrow.”

“But sir-” Yakov waved him off. “No buts. Coaches orders. Go to the hotel spa or something. That’s what Victor does.”


	81. Chapter 81

Naturally, Yuuri didn’t go to the spa. He went back to his room and spent some time just laying down, staring at the ceiling before he finally decided he couldn’t just play dead. Yakov had confiscated his phone a day before, well aware of his anxiety and how it was fuelled by social media reports.

Just when he considered going for a quick run, someone knocked on his door. He opened quickly, more than a little surprised to come face to face with Chris Giacometti. Having not dealt with him much, he had no idea what to say.

“Hey! Is Victor in? This is supposed to be his room…?” Oh.

Gulping, Yuuri invited the taller man in.

“Victor is…he’s in Russia. His dog, his Makka, she’s with a vet. He had to leave.” Whistling quietly, Chris sat on the edge of their bad. “I’m sorry to hear it. I was hoping him and I could have a drink maybe.” “Before the competition?” Yuuri blurted out, only to frantically apologise a moment later.

“No, it’s fine. It’s a tradition between us. We’re the oldest skaters in the circuit, you know.” “I’m not that much younger.” “True enough. You wanna have a drink then?” Yuuri shook his head mutely. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Fair enough. What are you in the mood for then? Shopping? Skating?” Yuuri shrugged. “I was… Maybe a run? I don’t know. Coach banned me from skating.” Chris chuckled. “Yes, not surprising. Say, I heard a rumour… at last year’s GP, your performance was…” “Awful?”

“Well, it wasn’t good. I watched most of it. Rumour has it that it was because of your dog?” Yuuri shrugged. “Well… yeah. Vicchan died during the competition. I got the news and… it was tough. I just couldn’t focus.”

“And now… now it’s Makka.” He nodded quietly.

Quite suddenly, Chris slapped a hand on his shoulder and manoeuvred him towards the door. “W-Wha?”

“Come on. No way sitting around here will do you any good. We’ll pick up the other skaters and we’ll all have lunch together.” “But I don’t want-” Chris shot him a meaningful look. “You need to get out of your room. Unless you’d rather have lunch with just me…?” The Swiss skater fake-leered at him.

Well, at least Yuuri hoped it was fake.

“Everyone is fine.”

And so, Yuuri found himself sitting in an upscale seafood restaurant a few streets away from the competition site with three of his competitors in tow. Chris had texted Leo and Guang Hong to join them, and both had agreed readily. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d feared and once he got over the fact that they were competing, it was almost… pleasant.

They didn’t talk about skating itself, or about the competition. Instead, they focused on chatting about different places they’d visited. Yuuri, being Japanese was happy to give them tips on what to visit in Tokyo after the competition was over. He wasn’t from there but with how many national competitions took place there, he knew plenty.

After ordering for everyone else as well as himself, they ate their meal. While they didn’t particularly bother him if he fell silent, Yuuri noticed that the other three made an effort to include him in their conversations. It felt draining, given how he was already feeling, but he knew it was better than the alternative.

Halfway through the meal, Chris phone rang. He glanced at the screen and tossed it in Yuuri’s lap.

“Pretty sure that’s for you.”

Victor.


	82. Chapter 82

Yuuri snatched up the phone and darted to the restroom before picking up the call. “V-Victor?” “Is that… Yuuri? Why do you have Chris’ phone? He isn’t bothering you, is he?” “N-No. We’re having lunch together.”

“You… and Chris?” “And Leo and Guang Hong. Chris invited me. It was very nice of him. How is… how are things?” After a moment of silence, Victor sighed. “It’s going as well as you can expect. My Makka, she’s a fighter but she’s not the youngest and… well, she’s not in any life-threatening danger, but she needs round the clock care at the moment.”

“I’m so glad. Victor, if she had-” “I know.”

They shared a moment of silence before Victor cleared his throat. “Listen, Yuuri, I’m sorry for just running. I had to go, but I didn’t want to distract you any sooner than necessary and… I’m sorry I can’t be there with you.”

“Oh, Vitya… please, don’t worry about it. I was so worried about you when I heard about Makka.” “Thank you. Is… did you find my note?” Yuuri snorted, despite his tension, or perhaps because of it.

“Yes, I did. You know I can’t read Russian right?” A groan was his answer. “Did I, was it really in Russian? Oh dear god, I’m so sorry. I was worried and in a hurry, and wasn’t thinking – I take it Yakov updated you?”

“Yes.” “How… how did training go?” He sighed. “Well, I’m in the men’s room of a restaurant I can’t really afford, having a phone call.” Victor chuckled softly. “Fair enough. I’m sure tomorrow will be different.”

“What if it isn’t?”

Yuuri felt like his voice echoed between them. After a few moments, he heard Victor take a deep breath.

“You listen to me, Yuuri Katsuki. Whether you win that competition or get zero points, nothing changes. We’ll go to Skate America tomorrow, we’ll go to the final, whether we get to compete or not. We’ll go home to St. Petersburg and we’ll keep training for our nationals. This is… this is just a bump, not a complete roadblock.”

“You’ll still want to be with me even if I screw up?” “Of course.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in Victor’s voice.

“I’m not with you because of your skating, Yuuri. Whether you ace your programs or fail, it doesn’t matter to me. I want you to do your best… but for your sake, not mine.” “So, what if I drop out? I’m going to fail Victor, I can feel it.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll support you, but… I don’t think it is. You’ve worked too hard not to try. You owe it to yourself to try.”

Yuuri hated that he was right and they both knew it. For what it was worth, he wasn't someone who quit things partway.


	83. Chapter 83

Back at the table, Chris gave him a reassuring nod when he handed back the phone. He didn’t ask any questions, though he could practically feel that all three of the skaters had several. They finished their meal, with Chris insisting on picking up the tab for all of them, claiming it was only right as he was the oldest.

Yuuri tried to protest, but to no avail – it wasn’t exactly easy, arguing with Chris Giacometti.

Back in his room, Yuuri went through some simple exercises – stretches, a few yoga moves he liked in order to loosen his muscles a little. It was just something to pass the time of course, but it fulfilled its purpose.

Yakov came to pick him up for dinner and to discuss their strategy for the next day. Head still swimming, Yuuri did his best to, well, do his best. He knew his weaknesses, knew he’d have to downgrade jumps, most likely, and that he’d struggle to compete with the frame of mind he was in.

Still, he was going to try. Forcing the tasteless food down, he listened to Yakov and paid attention as best he could. It wasn’t until he was back in his room, alone in bed that his anxiety really got a hold of his mind.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night and got up groggy and lethargic the next morning. Putting on his costume felt like a death sentence, and every minute closer to his performance, it got worse.

Warm-up was… bad. He obeyed Yakov’s order not to try any triples or quads and was still aware of the other’s eyes on him as he failed to do much more than skate in circles. He was the third skater of the day – after Leo and Guang Hong.

When the horn sounded and it was time for him to start, he felt like he was headed to his execution. He wasn’t ready. He’d both it, he knew it.

Still, he took his position – just in case Victor was watching, he’d do his best. They’d both worked too hard for him not to.

The music started and Yuuri moved. From the first step, he could tell how things would go. He got through his step sequences alright but with jumps upcoming, he knew he was skating on borrowed time. Triples were downgraded to doubles. Quads became triples, and even those he flubbed.

By the time the music stopped, Yuuri was glad it was over. There was applause, of course, but he didn’t deserve it. His performance had been worse than mediocre, and, as he skated to the exit, to where Yakov was waiting, he couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes.

They were silent all the way to the Kiss&Cry, where Yuuri awaited what he knew to be absurdly low scores. He’d scored in the 90s on this performance before – the judges score this time was 68.3. They had been generous – if he’d skated anywhere other than his homeland, been judged by foreign judges… well, the ratings would have been a lot less generous. It was humiliating – he was in third place, and with Chris Giacometti up next, he knew he’d be at the bottom of the board even after the rest of the skaters had their turn,

The eerie silence between him and his coach continued all the way to the hotel. The only words they shared was a quick goodnight before Yuuri disappeared into his room. He didn’t want dinner and apparently, Yakov knew – he hadn’t even suggested it.

Tears stinging in his eyes at the thought of what Victor probably thought of him now, Yuuri fell into a fitful sleep.


	84. Chapter 84

Waking up the next morning he didn’t feel any better than he had going to sleep the night before, except that now a weariness settled in his stomach that hadn’t been there before. Getting dressed slowly, he prepared himself for a repetition of the same thing again. At least then it would be over – there wouldn’t even be a point of him competing in Skate America, not with scores like this on his first competition.

Dressed and anything but ready, Yuuri went to knock on Yakov’s door. The man opened readily, but rather than inviting him in or stepping out, he handed him a phone and slammed the door right after. Well then.

It took Yuuri a moment to realise that the phone was actually in the middle of a phone call with someone – he recognised the Cyrillic nametag.

Victor.

“Hello?” He asked the other, unsure of what else to say. “Yuuri! There you are! I’ve been bugging Yakov to speak to you all morning! How are you feeling? Are you alright?” He nearly laughed – no, no he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry Victor. I blew it. I really screwed up, I just-” Voice a little bit choked, he broke off when Victor huffed at the other end of the line. “Nonsense, you haven’t screwed up anything. Today’s the free – we both know that’s where it counts. You can make up for it.”

“How? The others are ten, even twenty points ahead of me.” “Yuuri Katsuki, you listen to me. You are skating MY programs, and I’ve spent the last few MONTHS helping you train. You better do that justice and skate like you-”

Yuuri hung up and dashed back to his room, forgetting about giving the phone back entirely.

Yakov would understand. Hopefully.

A minute or so later, the phone rang again and Yuuri ignored it. He ignored the call after that and the next three before he finally picked up again. He couldn’t avoid Victor forever.

“H-Hello?” “Hi.” This time, Victor’s voice was a lot softer than it had been before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Anger, he could understand – he deserved it, even. This… this was confusing.

“I said the wrong thing, didn’t I? That’s why you hung up?” “What? I, no, you had every right to say those things, I mean you did give me your program and I did screw-” “No, stop. Yuuri, listen to me. I didn’t mean those things. I was just trying to motivate you, but I got it wrong, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, at motivating other people.”

Yuuri gulped as Victor continued. “I said it didn’t matter to me how you performed and that’s still true. I wanted you to do your best, but I don’t want this. You shouldn’t torture yourself like this.” “But-” “No buts, Yuuri. Today’s free… just focus on yourself, okay? Skate for yourself, so that you can be satisfied with yourself. Or maybe for Makka.”

“Makka… how is she?” Yuuri had nearly forgotten, in his emotional turmoil.

“She’s doing pretty great. She’s taken to a new kind of wet food rather than dry kibble and it’s great for her digestion. She’s off the fluids now and only at the vet's for a few more days for observation.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Yuuri allowed himself to relax a little.

“That’s great, I’m so happy.” “Mhm… she said she misses you, you know. She’ll definitely be better once you get back.” “I… I can’t wait to go home.” It was the truth – he wanted nothing more than to be in bed with Victor and Makka, underneath some covers and hiding from the world.

Only a soft chuckle revealed that he’d apparently said that out loud. Oops.

“You know, when you’re back, we will definitely have to do that.” A bang and scratch at the other end of the line startled Yuuri out of the relief he’d felt at talking to Victor like he was. He caught Victor saying something to someone else, before the man resumed talking to him.

“I’m sorry Yuuri, I need to go now. Good luck for your performance. Don’t… don’t let yourself be weighed down by yesterday okay? I want you to skate the performance you’d be most happy with. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

With the call over again, the silence of his hotel room felt stifling – yet still, as he headed back to Yakov’s room, he could feel that something was a bit different. The old Russian accepted the phone back with a sharp nod and then they headed off to practice, yet again.

Based on his scores, Yuuri would be going first this time around – it was his least favourite ranking position, and it certainly didn’t help his anxiety any. Still, he tried to focus on Victor’s advice. His step sequences were smoother than the jumbled mess from the day before, and while his jumps were wobbly and off a fair bit, they were by no means hopeless.

In other words, practice went okay. By the time he had to change into his outfit and head to the competition rink, his nerves were back though. Stepping onto the ice, taking a few deep breaths, he chose to circle the rink a few times, hoping his stomach would settle and stop trying to call out of his throat.

No such luck.

Moments before he assumed his position on the ice, something caught his eye – a flash of colour off to his side. His head whipped around and his eyes locked onto what he’d seen – a shock of silver hair above impossibly bright eyes.

Oh.

Victor was here. He was running, actually, along the rinkside and over to where Yakov was. He looked like he hadn’t slept any more than Yuuri had, and he had to have been running for a while what with how much he was out of breath.

Oh.

He’d come back for Yuuri, to support him. Swallowing thickly, Yuuri took his position, eyes still locked onto Victor.

The man drew a deep breath and then, with the most horrible pronunciation he’d ever heard, Victor yelled “Ganbatte!” across the ice. Somehow, even in the noise of the rink, his voice rang clear as a bell.

Victor had come back, just in time to wish him good luck.

Yuuri was a little bit mad, actually. There was no way he could screw up NOW, was there? It was a tad unfair actually.


	85. Chapter 85

Yuuri Katsuki broke his personal best by over 17 points. 203.53 points. Yuuri had never even come CLOSE to anything like it before. Skating to the exit after his free, he found himself wrapped in a warm hug from the person he’d wanted to see the most – his Victor.

The man had whispered something to him, not that he’d heard it. Both him and Yakov had dragged him to the Kiss&Cry immediately after, and even after two announcements of the score AND him reading it off the monitor, he couldn’t believe it.

He’d broken the 200 point mark, at a competition that was part of the Grand Prix. Him. Yuuri Katsuki. Only a handful skaters in the world had ever done that. His mind struggled to accept what had happened.

He’d started out strong, his steps and spins easy and comfortable, all the while thinking to himself that it wasn’t exactly fair that Victor had just appeared like that. He’d been in the middle of a crisis, damnit, and the Russian showed up, just like that.

He’d been prepared to fail. He HADN’T been prepared to win. He hadn’t even been prepared for the split-second decision to jump the higher difficulty scores of his program when he and Yakov had agreed to downgrade again for the free.

Sure, he botched a quad Sal, but other than that… he’d done well. He KNEW he’d done well, yet the score seemed impossible to him. A combined point total of 271.83. It wasn’t exactly record-breaking, but it was… good. Better than what he’d have dared hope for after the disaster of his short.

It was also enough to keep him on top of the scoreboard for the next three competitors. By the time the top three performers from the day before were up – Leo, Guang Hong and Chris in the last spot – Yuuri had calmed himself down enough to be somewhat rational.

There was hope – not a lot of it, but a bit – for a podium finish with his score. He had a chance at bronze, at the very least. Guang Hong was up first, skating a fast-paced program that Yuuri quite enjoyed watching. He held his breath when the scores were announced – Guang Hong was in second place, after Yuuri Katsuki.

That means… that meant that no matter what, he was on the podium. He had a guaranteed bronze with only two skaters left to go.

Leo de Iglesia was next, his upbeat program oddly resonating with Yuuri’s euphoria at what was happening. The only thing that was keeping him grounded was the hand that was wrapped around his. Victor was sat next to him, watching the other competitors.

As Leo’s scores were announced, Yuuri could barely breathe. The American had scored high – but not high enough. Leo de Iglesia was in third place, five points behind Yuuri. That meant… it meant silver.

Yuuri was in too much shock to really watch Chris’ performance. The Swiss skater beat him with nearly ten points but… but… Yuuri Katsuki had won silver. Somehow. Blindly stumbling after Victor and Yakov as they manoeuvred him through the rest of his day, not a single thing around him registered properly.

He’d done it. Somehow… he’d done it. He had a chance at the Grand Prix final.


	86. Chapter 86

Falling asleep in Victor’s arms that night, felt heavenly. Yuuri slept for almost eleven hours, before waking up well-rested and a little more emotionally grounded. Victor happily showed him photos of Makka and explained how, as soon as he’d heard what had happened and he’d made sure Makka was okay, he’d hopped on a place back to cheer Yuuri on. How his cab had been stuck in traffic and he’d ran nearly half a mile to get to the competition in time. How he’d had to sprint past security in order to make it to the rink, just in time for Yuuri’s performance.

How he’d gotten a huge scolding from the ISU for all of the above, but thankfully got off with just a warning. It was a lot to take in still but being able to lean against Victor’s chest as the man spoke, helped ground him in the fact that yes, it was all real. It really had happened.

Yakov made excuses for why Yuuri couldn’t attend the exhibition skate that day – the truth was, he was just asleep, but according to the Russian, nobody really questioned his excuse. Chris and Guang Hong skated their own exhibitions, of course, while Yuuri… slept.

Lord knew he needed it.

Victor arranged flights for them for that same evening, straight home to St. Petersburg. Yuuri couldn’t wait – he wanted to see for himself that Makka was alright.

She was already waiting in the flat when they got there, Mila having picked her up and dropped her off before they got there. Although she was a bit lethargic, she was indeed okay – Yuuri spent quite some time crying into her fur though, comforted by her licks and Victor’s amusement at him sitting in the foyer holding Makka.

He didn’t care.

Victor probably didn’t either, what with how he sat with them the entire time before making them all something to eat – Makka her new wet food mix, themselves some chicken and rice. It was domestic and everything he needed after the rollercoaster that was the NHK Trophy.

Yuuri still couldn’t believe the silver medal that now sat in a little box inside his bedside table. He hadn’t really known what to do with it – he had other medals, golds even, but somehow this one meant… more. So much more.

Still, eventually he had to go back to ‘business as usual’ as it was – two days after returning home, Victor declared it was time to resume training for the next competition. Skate America was a little over two weeks away and, as the Russian gleefully pointed out, they’d both need to be at their best.

Of course, Yuuri had forgotten all about that. He’d be competing with Victor directly, and there would be no room for error if he wanted to have any chance at all of doing so seriously. Their base scores were relatively similar, assuming Yuuri didn’t downgrade any of his jumps… and that meant he needed another quad.

For all that he felt elated about the NHK Trophy, that feeling didn’t translate into airtime for his quad training. He caught himself looking at his medal at night before going to sleep – not every night, but a few times per week. It was certainly motivating, as was the knowledge that Victor Nikiforov was taking him seriously as a competitor.

Their flights to Las Vegas of all places came quicker than expected. Victor arranged for a special sitter with vet nurse training to take care of Makka while they were gone – she seemed to be doing better though.

So, as they boarded the first of two flights to America, Yuuri found himself anticipating rather than fearing the event ahead of them. There was a strong lineup he’d be competing again. In addition to Victor himself, he’d also be up against Michele Crispino, Emil Nekola and JJ Leroy.

Still, watching Victor enthusiastically talk about how he wanted to see Vegas while they were there, occasionally looking out the window to watch the sunrise as their plane took off, he didn’t quite have it in him to worry too much. There’d be time for that later.


	87. Chapter 87

Arriving in Vegas after their flights was a relief – the hotel room was lovely, and the bed more comfortable than he’d dared to hope. Yuuri let himself fall into the bed face first, laughing when Victor immediately dropped down on top of him.

Once again, training had gotten in the way of them spending quality time together, something both seemed to be keenly aware of. It took a bit of rolling around until the two of them were comfortably nestled together on the king-sized bed, looking into each other’s eyes.

“We’re really here, aren’t we?” Yuuri shyly asked after a few moments.

“What do you mean?” “Just… just that I’m still not sure if all of this is real, that’s all. I mean, the NHK Trophy, you…” Yuuri trailed off, unsure how to describe it. Victor pouted before responding. “Yuuuuri, that’s no fair! If you don’t think this is real, what should I say? I mean I finally have you with me and you aren’t even sure if it’s real?”

Yuuri smiled suddenly.

“I think I know what the challenge is, Vitya.” The Russian quickly averted his eyes from Yuuri’s and studied their entwined fingers instead. “Oh?”

“Mh. I think, when I watched you at the cup of China, that I figured it out.” “Ah… I thought you might have. Is it… what do you think?” Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand in his own. “What do I think?” “Hm. You must think it’s stupid?”

“No, I don’t. Not at all. It’s you. I could never think that. Besides, I was the one who gave you the challenge, right?” “Very true. Can I make a request?” “Of course.” “Yuuri… please don’t say it. Not until… not until I’m sure.”

Sudden understanding surged through Yuuri. “Of course.”

Victor’s form sagged in obvious relief and he cuddled closer to Yuuri. “I’m looking forward to telling you… well, everything. I still can’t believe that you just forgot our first night together.” Yuuri smiled weakly. “And I can’t believe I supposedly rejected you. Ridiculous.”

Their moment of quiet peace was interrupted by a polite knock on the door. Victor got up to open, returning with a tray a few moments later. “What’s that? Did you order room service?” Yuuri asked, confused about when the other would have done so.

“No. Let’s have a look?” Victor set the tray down and removed the lid. Underneath were two slices of chocolate cake, along with a note. ‘Good luck – you’ll need it. JJ’ it read. Yuuri frowned down at it – why was another competitor sending them cake?

“Who is this person?” Victor asked in obvious confusion. “Ah, Jean-Jacques Leroy. Canadian competitor.” “Oh? I’ve never heard of him before.” “Really? He beat Yuri in the Rostelekom Cup.” The Russian shrugged. “Is that so? Well, we can’t eat this, so I’ll give it to Yakov.”

Before Yuuri could protest and ask to sample the cake, the lid slammed down and Victor was on his way to the elevator. Coaches were on a different floor in this hotel. Waiting for Victor to return, Yuuri stood and looked out the windows.

The hotel had huge glass fronts, giving a breath-taking view of Vegas in the late afternoon. He was looking forward to seeing it at night. Studying the buildings underneath – they were on the twelfth floor – he was quite surprised when hands landed on the window above him and a warm body pressed himself to his back.

Moments later, soft hair tickled his neck as Victor placed a kiss behind his ear. Yuuri nearly melted against him, instead choosing to lean back and angle himself so they were pressed against each other as completely as possible. Their height difference had never been more useful, as far as Yuuri was concerned.

When one of Victor’s hands wrapped around Yuuri’s middle and held him close, Yuuri was sure he wanted to stay like that forever. “Yuuuri?” “Mh?” “Are you nervous about the competition?”

Was he?

“Of course I am, but I’m also excited.” The arm around his middle tightened. In a low voice, Victor eventually responded. “Yeah… yeah, me too. Let’s do our best together, okay?”

Nodding gently, Yuuri turned his attention back to the view – the sun was just starting to set and the reflections off the many glass surfaces were absolutely breath-taking. They stayed like that for a while, motionless and content to watch the people and cars below them.


	88. Chapter 88

Yuuri’s practices were going so well he was getting a bit suspicious of them. No major falls, small victories when it came to practicing his jumps, few if any setbacks. He was ready – as ready as he was ever going to be, at the very least. That was… strange.

Not something he was used to, and also oddly terrifying. He was genuinely in good shape, and in as good a place mentally as he could hope to be. That meant… that meant that he’d be competing with Victor at his peak. Obviously, that was the only way he’d have any chance at all, but it was also oddly terrifying. If he didn’t measure up like this, he never would.

He’d never really thought of his previous circumstances as excuses, but this time he knew there would be none. Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki would be competing, directly. And by some miracle… Yuuri was looking forward to it.

Waking up the day of the short, Yuuri found himself wrapped up in Victor’s arms like any other morning. They both got dressed together and joined Yakov for breakfast before heading to the training rink, where they took turns giving each other advice and practicing certain moves. Yuuri could see the energy and motivation burning in the other man and knew it was reflected in his own face as well.

The other skaters barely registered – at least until JJ Leroy sauntered over to them, a few minutes before the first skater was due to start – Emil. Yuuri nodded at him but he walked straight past him to Victor. The Russian was visibly unimpressed right off the bat.

“Nikiforov! I look forward to competing with you. You’ll give me a run for my money, ey?” The Canadian chuckled and Yuuri tried not to cringe at his attitude. Victor glanced him up and down before responding.

“And you are… staff? Have I met you before?” JJ’s shock was evident even from behind him, as Yuuri was. He had to suppress a snicker. “U-Uh, I’m the one who sent you cake yesterday?” Victor nodded. “Ah yes, I gave it to my coach. I prefer not to break my diet.” With that, his eyes wandered past JJ and he made eye contact with Yuuri.

“Yuuuuri, are you ready to go?” Without so much as another glance at JJ, Victor closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. Snickering ever so lightly, he allowed himself to be led away by Victor.

Once they were out of hearing distance, Yuuri glanced up. “That was pretty harsh, don’t you think?” Victor winked at him. “I don’t know what you mean. I simply have no idea who this man is. Besides, if he really came to acknowledge his competition, why did he walk past you? He came to inflate his own ego, that’s all.”

Yuuri shrugged. “He’s… I think maybe he’s just trying to deal with his nerves in his own way?” “Then he needs to find a better way. Being rude to others like that, it won’t get him far.” Victor’s tone made it clear the matter was closed as far as he was concerned, and given that they reached the competition area just then, Yuuri was all too happy to let it go.

Both changed into their costumes in the designated area, in silence – Victor was the second one up, Yuuri was fourth. Still, both men were ready by the time Emil took to the ice. He did well – an above-average score for sure. Still, when Yuuri saw the determination on Victor’s face, he knew that nobody else would be able to compete with that then and there. And indeed – Victor’s performance was full of life, more so than even his last one had been. 

Yuuri had never felt like more of a fanboy then when he was standing by the exit, waiting for a heavily breathing Victor to re-join him. Before doing so, the man bent to pick up a packaged rose, which, as soon as he stepped off the ice, he handed to Yuuri.

Fighting hard not to blush, he watched Victor head to the Kiss&Cry. He decided not to follow, given that they were both competing in the same event. Yuuri didn’t much pay attention to JJ’s performance while watching Victor receive his scores – he nearly fell off his skates when they were announced. Victor Nikiforov had done it again – he’d beaten his own world record, by almost four points. 111.26 points.

Any other day, Yuuri would have felt intimidated by that score, but all he could feel was joy when Victor practically skipped back over to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. “You were amazing.” Yuuri whispered to him, meaning it with every fibre of his being.

“You will be amazing too, I just know it.” 

For some reason, Yuuri could believe him, this time.


	89. Chapter 89

When it was time to step onto the ice, there were no distractions, only focus on his performance. Well, that wasn’t entirely true – familiar silver hair at the rinkside caught his eye every time he turned that way.

Yuuri found himself wanting to show off as much as he could. It didn’t feel like he was skating for the competition or anything of the sort – he felt like he was skating just to show off his skills. By the time his performance came to an end, he was actually disappointed about it – he’d not enjoyed a competition skate that much in, well, his entire career.

The tears in Victor’s eyes when he came back over only made the feeling all the more precious.

Victor who clearly did not share his own reservations followed him and Yakov to the Kiss&Cry and sat close to him, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Yuuri was still breathing hard when the scores were announced.

“Yuuri Katsuki beat his personal best by quite the margin! A score of 107.92 WOULD have beaten the world record, had he skated before Victor Nikiforov. As it is, this is now one of the top scores in ISU history! Yuuri Katsuki, everyone!” The speakers called out, while Yuuri sat there, shell-shocked.

“You beat my record, my Yuuri!” Gulping, he shook his head. “No? I mean, I would have but you beat it first?” Victor huffed. “That was just luck. Do you know how long it has been since anyone beat any of my records at all? Even the old ones? That, Yuuri Katsuki, was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen.”

“I skated it for you!” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

The pure adoration in those gorgeous blue eyes rather stopped him from regretting his words though – Yuuri wanted him to look at him like that for the rest of his life if he at all could. Neither watched the rest of the performances – the top three at the end of the day were Victor, Yuuri and JJ in third place.

As for Yuuri – he was walking on air. He’d earned that score and this time he felt like he deserved it too – he’d worked hard, harder than ever.

When Yakov handed him his phone on the way back to the hotel, he felt a little more validated again – if his coach didn’t think that having his phone would affect him, surely the man had more faith in him too?

Switching his phone on, Yuuri saw dozens of congratulatory texts from friends, family and acquaintances. He saved them all but only responded to three of them – one from his parents, one from Phichit, one from Minako. They each got the same message: ‘Thank you for everything. It’s all because you helped me all this time.’

He shut his phone back off though, not quite ready for any more talking to people. Victor tucked it into his back pocket without so much as needing an explanation as they headed for the press section of the event. There was a surprising amount of attention on the two of them, and if it wasn’t fur Victor’s calming hand on his thigh, he’d have probably panicked.

He still stuttered a fair bit in his responses, but it wasn’t a complete disaster. Afterwards, they shared a surprisingly intimate dinner in the hotel restaurant. Yuuri was sure that Victor had pulled some strings to get them a chef’s table in the otherwise crowded establishment, but he wasn’t about to argue against candlelight dinner with the other.

The entire time though, every once in a while, his score would pop back into his mind. He was within a few points of Victor Nikiforov… and the other man was as excited as he was. Victor seemed well enough aware of how he was feeling but other than a few suggestions for his free the next day, they hardly spoke of skating at all.

When they fell into bed that night, exhausted but happy, Yuuri felt a tad more worried – it all felt a bit like a dream. What if he woke up the next morning and the dream had run its course? Staring at the silver lashes of the sleeping man in his bed, Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to care. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to Victor’s lips, pleased when even asleep the man softly kissed back before rolling over.

Snuggled against his back, Yuuri let sleep take him – he’d worry about the free enough the next day.


	90. Chapter 90

This proved to be true. He wasn’t sure what had given him a break from his anxiety, but the next morning there was a lot more tension in the room. Since they were the last two skaters due, they had a bit more time to prepare, but even that suddenly didn’t feel like enough.

Yuuri was all too aware that his base score was still a little below Victor. He could make up a bit of the gap with his presentation scores, but even if he made no mistakes at all – unlikely – he’d come up short. It wasn’t until Yakov called him over and told him to get out of his head that he realised it didn’t much matter. If he skated to his full potential, he was all but guaranteed a spot in the final anyway… he didn’t need to beat Victor.

He ignored the small part of him that wanted to try. It wasn’t worth risking his spot in the final on the minuscule chance of a miracle. So, he spent more time than usual listening to his music, remembering which steps, moves and jumps were supposed to go where trying desperately to ignore all the possibilities in which he could up his score.

Then… then it was time. Hugging Victor one last time, he skated straight to the centre of the rink and took his position, eyes closed.

The first movements were easy, a short step sequence, a camel spin and another step sequence. Then came his first jump – a triple-double combo. He aced it, easily. Next were a few more steps and an Ina Bauer, then his first quad – a toe loop. He aced that too, as was the case for his next double double jump. The final jump in his first half was another quad – the Salchow. He came down a bit wobbly but knew the point loss would be minimal. 

The step sequence leading his second half was a more tricky one and he fully focused on it as he went through each motion. A triple axel later, it was time for his final jump combo – a triple double double combo. After that, all that would be left was a double and some more spins and steps.

It seemed dreadfully boring all of a sudden.

He wasn’t tired either – why not take a risk? A quick glance to the side, to where Victor stood, showed that the man was spellbound… but he wasn’t surprised. Yuuri wanted to surprise him the way the other had done so often for him.

Yuuri sped up past what he needed for the combo and launched into a quad Lutz. He came down hard and double-footed the landing… but he’d done it. He had the right amount of rotations.

His heart soared even as the audience seemed to give a collective gasp. It felt spectacular. Next was a combo spin, followed by his last double jump.

An insane thought entered Yuuri’s mind – he’d never successfully done it, ever, but… but… he knew that as it was, his base score would be close to Victor’s. Was he satisfied with close?

Speeding up again for perhaps the dumbest decision he’d ever made in his career, he decided that no, close wasn’t enough. He wanted everything.

Yuuri Katsuki attempted his first quad flip in a Grand Prix competition. He landed on his arse hard… and came up laughing. He’d had enough rotations, he was sure of it. Four quads, even if they hadn’t been perfect. In the history of skating, only Victor Nikiforov had ever done that.

And now… now, so had Yuuri. He was glad all that was left was a spin – his legs were shaking from exertion all of a sudden and he wasn’t sure if he’d have another step sequence in him. With the music ended, Yuuri collapsed to his knees, his thighs screaming in pain.

It didn’t matter – he’d done it. His base score was up there with Victor’s, he was sure of it. As for the final numbers… he’d have to wait and see. He got up under the thundering applause of the audience, only for a white-black blur to come straight for him.

He didn’t realise it was Victor in his free skate costume until the other had already tackled him to the ground, the both of them sliding across the ice, Victor frantically pressing their mouths together in a kiss.

Yuuri held on for dear life, laying on the ice for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t until a rather amused announcer pointed out that they had a program to get on with that Yuuri pulled back and both Victor and him scrambled to their feet, leaning on each other on the way to the exit. 

Yuuri was grateful for the support, laughing as though he was. Victor dropped him off at the exit with another kiss, before heading back out and skating circles. Yuuri stayed where he was, keen to see every moment of Victor’s performance. It wasn’t until a rather confused sounded announcer started talking about Yuuri’s score that he realised he hadn’t actually gone to the Kiss&Cry.

Looking over, he saw that a VERY annoyed-looking Yakov was sitting there, studying the monitors. Then the words came – his free had netted him 213.21 points. That was… that was half a point above Victor’s world record. He’d done it – for at least the next ten or so minutes, he was the keeper of a world record.

Frantically turning back to Victor, he gripped the edge of the rink and made eye contact. He was a tad worried the other might be mad but all he saw in those blue eyes was love and joy. Then the horn sounded, and Victor’s performance began.


	91. Chapter 91

The man skated as well as he had done the day before. A stunning performance that had Yuuri at the edge of his seat – a seat he was only even in because Yakov had dragged him there once the horn had sounded.

The performance was over far too soon – as far as Yuuri was concerned, it had been perfect. Still, it had to end, he knew that. They walked to the Kiss&Cry together, hands tightly locked together. He was pretty sure neither of them breathed until the final score was announced. Victor Nikiforov had scored 208.77 points.

It didn’t really sink in until he saw the final scoreboard. He was… on top. Above Victor. He had scored a total of 321.13 points, Victor had 320.03. It was close, so, so very close but… Yuuri Katsuki was the winner of Skate America.

It felt like in the blink of an eye they were out of the arena after the medal ceremony – Victor had a firm grip on his wrist and was straight up dragging him… well, somewhere. He had no idea where to.

In the end, Yuuri found himself pulled into what looked like an empty meeting room in the backstage area. Yuuri was pretty sure they weren’t actually supposed to be in there – that thought lasted approximately two seconds, as that was how long it took for Victor to bodily shove him against the door and kiss him.

It was so sudden, so unexpected that Yuuri simply parted his lips and returned the frantic kiss as well as he could. Eager hands slid up his sides and over his chest, practically yanking his Japan jacket off him. He didn’t stop there, having already shrugged out of his own jersey, reaching for the zipper at the base of Yuuri’s neck.

A little worried that the overeager man would tear it, he lightly pushed against Victor’s shoulders. The Russian did break the kiss, but only long enough to move his head lower and kiss Yuuri’s neck instead.

Suddenly weak, Yuuri tilted his head back to give him better access – he had always been weak to kisses there and Victor well knew it by now. Yuuri ran his hands through Victor’s hair, nails scratching along his scalp the way he knew the Russian loved – he was not disappointed. Victor gave a full-body shiver and pressed himself even closer to Yuuri.

Eventually, he drew back far enough to be able to whisper into Yuuri’s ear.

“Yuuuuuri… you were amazing.” “Uhuh…” He replied, completely unsure as to what he was supposed to reply. Victor seemed to sense it and pulled back to get a proper look at Yuuri.

“Will you fuck me? We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

The blunt question put Yuuri off-kilter instantly. “I, uh, wha? You want-” Victor shut him up with another kiss. “I’ve always wanted. I’m… ready.”

Swallowing, Yuuri did his best to pull himself enough to think. “The challenge-” “Is done. Over. Completed. Now, are you going to fuck me or not?”

“No!” He hissed and pushed Victor back a little bit.


	92. Chapter 92

He wasn’t sure whether frustration or confusion was the most obvious emotion on Victor’s face, but whichever it was, the man hadn’t expected the rejection.

“Why? I thought you wanted to…” Yuuri shook his head. “I do, of course, I do! You know that Vitya, but not like this. We need to… to talk first. Also, do you really want our first time together to be in a dusty conference room?”

The Russian looked around like it was the first time he noticed their surroundings – for all Yuuri knew, it was.

“I wanted our first time to be on the ice.” A petulant sounding Victor complained. Yuuri sighed in relief – if he was joking, he was at least not mad. Probably. “That would have been a bit…cold, I think.”

Victor mock-glared at him. “Wouldn’t you have kept me warm?” Cursing under his breath in Russian, Victor picked up their discarded jackets. “But you’re right, Yuuri. This isn’t the place. I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry-”

He placed a hand on Victor’s arm. “Don’t apologise. I liked it. I’m happy that you want me so much. I’m… happy that your challenge is done too.” They shared a warm smile before Victor gave back his jacket and he slipped it back on.

“You’re right though. We need to talk first. There’s some stuff that needs to be said, no?” Yuuri nodded along with Victor’s words as they stepped outside, into the hallway again. At the last moment, the Russian paused and half-turned, making Yuuri run straight into him.

“When that’s done though…” Yuuri gulped. “When that’s done, I think I promised you something about making you beg a while back?” “Did you? You’ll have to remind me of the… details of that.”

Oh was Yuuri looking forward to doing just that.

Naturally, it wasn’t quite that easy. On their return to the main areas, they ran into Yakov who was less than pleased that they’d run off – he all but dragged them to the press circuit. He made them sit through an endless barrage of questions about their performance, the nature of their relationship, their rivalry and more… all Yuuri wanted was to go back to their room and rip Victor’s clothes off.

Somehow, he made it through press hour, but by the time it was over, they were both just about done with other people. Yuuri wasn’t sure what exactly Victor said to Yakov before they departed, but it didn’t sound very polite.

No matter, he’d make Victor apologise the next day. Probably.

Their elevator ride up to their room was shared with an elderly couple – if not, they’d have probably embarrassed themselves then and there. Still, despite that, once they reached their room and closed the door behind them with an audible click… neither of them moved.

Yuuri gulped – he was intimately familiar with the feeling in his gut. Anxiety. Taking a deep breath, he was about to ask Victor what he wanted to do when the other man beat him to it.

“Shall we… do you want me to tell you about the banquet night?” Yuuri sat next to Victor on the bed.

“Please.”


	93. Chapter 93

With the passion and urgency suddenly all but fizzled out, Yuuri allowed himself to relax a little. They’d talk… they needed to talk.

“Shall I just…tell you what happened that night?” Yuuri gulped and nodded, eyes fixed to Victor’s slightly trembling hands. He suppresses the urge to reach out and comfort the other man. “Well, you know the start of it. The GP was just finished, I had won again… I only attended the banquet because Yakov insisted. I didn’t actually want to. By the time I got there, you were anything but sober. You… you were dancing with everyone there. Chris, Yura, everyone. It was… quite the sight.”

Victor chuckled at the memory and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was curious, but not overly so. Then you asked me to dance and… well, it was the most fun I’d had in years. I didn’t have to be The Living Legend, I could just… enjoy myself. We made a complete fool of ourselves and it was wonderful.” Yuuri cringed a little at the fool part of it, even as he flushed at the fond recollections Victor had.

He wished he could remember it too.

“Then… well, your coach found you and said that you needed to go to your room. You insisted on staying with me, so I offered to take you up there. I didn’t have any ulterior motives then, but once we were in the elevator… well, you wrapped your arms around me in the cutest way and I couldn’t resist kissing you.” A faint pink blush spread down Victor’s neck.

“Once we were at your room… Well, I told you some of it already. You kissed me senseless, made me want you so badly I would have done just about anything… and then you turned me down.” Yuuri sighed. “I still don’t see how even drunk I would have done that.” Victor smiled, mirthlessly.

“You said that you didn’t want to have sex with someone you didn’t know.”

Oh. That was… at least not outrageously stupid? It was certainly true for sober Yuuri.

“I… well, I reminded you that you’re my fan? I knew of course. It was pretty obvious. You said that… that you meant the real Victor.” He nodded, eager for the Russian to continue. “I don’t remember what I said exactly but it was something along the lines of that there is no ‘real’ Victor. You said that if that’s the case you REALLY don’t want to be with me.”

The man gave a dry laugh and shrugged. “I was a tad insulted, but you weren’t done yet. You said… you said that you had no interest in anyone who didn’t love themselves enough to be real. That was… it was a bit of a punch to the gut, to be honest. I told you something I’d never said to anyone before; that I didn’t know who I was.”

Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and linking their fingers together, giving what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I felt so small, it was quite silly.” “Not silly at all. I don’t remember it but… there’s nothing silly about that.”

“Funnily enough you said something very similar and offered that you’d help me figure it out. You said… that feelings are confusing.” Yuuri groaned in shame – he remembered that Victor once told him that someone ‘really smart’ had told him that once.

“I asked you what you meant and you asked me if I’d ever felt real. It was… I had to think about it. The only thing I could think of was… well, I told you it was when we were dancing and kissing.”

Yuuri gulped. “You then said that if that was true, you’d definitely want me. That I’d have to prove it, prove that I was like that.”

“That’s… what the challenge was?” 

“It was part of it. The smaller part, actually. The rest of it you said more as an afterthought, I think. You told me that I needed to love myself if I wanted someone else to love me as well. Again, I asked how. You told me to… to be myself. I’m not proud of it, but I cried quite a bit. Nobody had ever said any of those things to me.”

With shock, Yuuri realised that Victor was crying again, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto their linked fingers. “You held me, comforted me. Offered to spend the night with me. I accepted and we got into bed. I… when I thought you were asleep already, I asked what would happen if I managed to prove it, if I really could… meet your challenge.”

Amusement flashed through the tears as Victor looked up for a moment. “You just mumbled something, and when I asked you to repeat it, you said that you’d first bang me and then marry me. I was smitten, of course.”

Groaning, Yuuri let himself fall back onto the bed and covered his eyes with his free arm. He’d been mostly right about the challenge but… but WHY was drunk Yuuri such a loser? He really didn’t deserve Victor. Said man was chuckling softly.

“You told me that I’d have to work for it though. Then you more or less put your hand on my ass and fell asleep.” 

He was never looking at the other man ever again, Yuuri decided.

“I was…I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I spent all that time thinking about… about what you’d said. What I wanted. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted you. You know what happened the next morning.”

Yes, he did indeed.

Sighing, Yuuri forced himself to meet Victor’s eyes.

“Tell me about actually fulfilling the challenge.”


	94. Chapter 94

The Russian nodded eagerly.

“Well, at first I was quite lost on that. Having the whole night to think about it certainly helped though. My first idea was to just seduce you. I figured I’d have another shot when you were sober. Then… well, you didn’t remember. I realised I had a choice then and there. I could have ignored what you said and just tried to date you, but part of me… part of me wanted it. A large part, actually.”

Yuuri swallowed nervously.

“Don’t get me wrong Yuuri, I was tempted to ignore it a lot, but… I wanted to see if I could do it. I’d had so much fun with you, I didn’t want it to end. Then… well, you had to go home of course. I was quite upset and lonelier than I’d been before I met you. I wanted to see you again as soon as possible. That’s pretty much why I sent you so many texts. Yakov pointed out that I was being creepy, but by then it was too late.”

Yuuri grinned weakly. “I actually really liked it. I mean, I didn’t understand your interest, but I was beyond flattered. It made me really happy, Vitya.” The other man beamed at him before continuing his story.

“Well, you know what happened. When you got hurt and I wasn’t there. I blamed myself for it, so much. I came close to ending my career over it. I just… the ice suddenly seemed hostile. Nothing seemed right anymore, and I was sure I’d lost you. When I realised that I hadn’t… well, I just figured I’d have to complete that challenge on my own, that I’d be lucky if you still wanted to be with me as a friend.”

“I wanted more than that. I just… wanted you.”

Victor nodded, softly smiling. “I know that. But you’d been hurt, and I wanted you to get better more than I wanted us to be together. When you agreed to come to Russia with me it was one of the happiest moments of my life.”

Yuuri had to agree.

“Then… well, things were going well? You were getting better, we seemed to get along well but… I had no idea how to continue the challenge. How to make progress. I figured skating was the way to go. I was… wrong. I realised that when we went to Japan for your first competition.”

Seemingly cautious, Victor stretched out next to him, only a few inches separating them. “I was… I’d already been willing to give up on us, on this, if it meant that you could get back what you lost. I thought that would make you happier. The Japanese competition proved me wrong though. I watched you skate and I felt something.”

He waited for Victor to continue while processing everything that had been said. It was a lot to take in. Eventually, Victor sighed and continued. “Well, your skating motivated me. I realised that I truly wanted to skate again for the first time… the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating.”

Victor smiled softly, and Yuuri readily returned the smile. “Preparing for the GP, training with you… it’s been some of the best months of my life. I hadn’t expected that we’d get to compete before the final, of course, but that’s okay.”

“Vitya… how come you were so sure that I’d make it to the final?” The Russian snickered. “Because I know you, Yuuri. You’re talented, stubborn, determined and when you don’t let your anxiety take over, you’re unbelievable. I wasn’t sure whether you’d be able to defeat me in the end, but I wanted to know – if we both do our best, who would come out on top?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I still can’t believe I scored higher than you. You… you’re Victor Nikiforov.” “And you’re Yuuri Katsuki. You ARE talented. Still, that’s not quite it. When… when you defeated me, I realised something. I realised that my… my self-worth wasn’t tied to skating anymore.”

Victor flopped onto his back. “I’ve been winning everything for a very long time now. I thought that’s who I was, it’s how I defined myself. But when you took my record, and even put me in second place… I didn’t mind. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I fully plan on getting my record back at the finals, but I didn’t feel like not winning really reflected on me. I was myself, whether I won or not.”

Yuuri nodded – he could understand that part at least. He’d felt the same, after all.

“Yuuri… it took me almost a year to find the answers that I was looking for. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.” He shook his head at Victor’s words. “Don’t be. We both… needed to go through this. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

He gulped, unsure if he was about to overstep a line.

“Which… which version of you is real? Which version do you love?” For a moment, his partner looked utterly baffled, then he laughed quite happily. “Oh, Yuuri…”

Victor got up from the bed and stood before Yuuri while he sat back up as well. Watching Victor go down on one knee with a smile nearly made his head spin, yet that was exactly what was happening.

The other man gently took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Yuuri… The only version of me that I can wholeheartedly love is the one that loves you, Yuuri.”


	95. Chapter 95

Breath hitching in his throat, Yuuri practically threw himself at Victor, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tackling him to the ground, a little like Victor had done to him on the ice before. He didn’t even try to stop his tears from falling, instead letting them run down his cheeks freely.

Yuuri had made some amazing memories with Victor – he hadn’t expected anything would beat the feeling of standing on the pedestal above Victor, of the older man adoringly looking up at him… but he’d been wrong, that moment was nothing compared to what he was feeling.

“Be mine forever?” He eventually choked out, his voice rough from emotion. Victor just hugged him back and hummed his agreement. Yuuri could feel from his hold that the other man had to feel at least as emotional as he was.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, holding each other as if their life depended on it. Eventually, it was Yuuri that broke the embrace and pulled Victor up to his feet. “Yuuri?” “We shouldn’t lay on the floor.”

The Russian grinned. “No, we shouldn’t. There’s a perfectly comfortable bed right there. Do you want to come lay in it with me?” Despite the teasing tone, Yuuri simply gave a solemn nod. They laid the same way they’d done a hundred times before – face to face, a few inches apart and looking at each other.

They’d laid in that exact position so many times, but it had never meant quite as much before. After a few moments, Victor shifted closer and wrapped his arm around Yuuri. “Yuuuuri… what are you thinking about?”

“You. How lucky I am to have you.” He answered truthfully.

Victor closed the remaining distance between them and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss. Yuuri returned it eagerly, rolling them both until he was on top of Victor, leaning up on his arms above the taller man.

Their kiss was slowly going from sweet to heated, Victor’s hands roaming his back more and more urgently.

When he pulled back a moment later, Victor’s eyes were glazed, and he was panting a little. “Beautiful.” He mumbled, pleased when the Russian flushed pink. Sleek hands wrapped around his neck and played with the hair at the base of his neck. 

“Yuuri, have you thought about…?” The other trailed off but the question was obvious enough. “Only for the last twelve years of my life.” He replied before he could think better of it.

“Wow! I like that.” Yuuri, unsure what to say, kissed him again. When it became obvious that Victor’s hands were moving with a purpose, yanking at his shirt, he leaned back and sat up. Because of their position, he rather ended up in Victor’s lap. If the murmured Russian curse from the other was anything to go by, he didn’t mind.

Pulling his shirt off, Yuuri accidentally pulled off his glasses as well. Rather than admit this though, he decided to make it look deliberate and gave his best seductive smirk. Victor leaned up too, just enough to shrug out of his own shirt. Then they were back to kissing, now that little bit closer.

They’d certainly touched each other’s bodies before, but the awareness that it was different now, that they were on the same page, it gave it all a novel feel.

Less than five minutes later, both men had stripped down to their underwear, without really breaking contact between each other for more than a few moments at a time. Yuuri was just about to ask what Victor wanted to do when the other gave a rather devious grin and flipped them over.

While Yuuri had enjoyed being on top of Victor, he didn’t mind the new view either. The low light of the room made Victor’s hair seem even more ethereal than it otherwise would have. The expression on his face was what really made Yuuri’s breath hitch. ‘Public Victor’ was unreadable, inscrutable. Hidden behind a polite smile.

His Victor was different. He was open with his feelings, his expressions reflecting his feelings. He had no trouble reading Victor’s expression as the man trailed a hand down Yuuri’s chest and stomach, pausing at his boxers. It was a border they hadn’t crossed yet – after what seemed like an eternity, Victor lifted the elastic just enough to be able to curl his fingers under the fabric.

Another moment passed, then the older man chuckled. “You know, I’ve wanted this for so long it feels surreal now.” Yuuri knew exactly what he meant. “We don’t have to-” The older man glared playfully. “Haven’t I made you wait long enough?” 

Yuuri took Victor’s hand from where it was still teasing just inside his boxers and sat up, forcing the older man to hold on to his shoulders to not fall. It… wasn’t a bad position. “You haven’t made me wait at all. We both had to be in the right place. If you aren’t sure this is it…”

Victor seemed to contemplate his words for a minute.

“We don’t really have any supplies here, do we?” He shook his head. “AND we have to skate tomorrow.” Yuuri had forgotten all about the exhibition program, but Victor was quite right. “Then, when do you want to-”

Victor wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think we can really plan. Maybe we should just… let it happen? Naturally?” “I agree. I think we’re both a little too…” Yuuri trailed off, unsure how to continue. “Raw?” Victor suggested – it rather fit.

“Shall we go to bed? I’m exhausted.”

“Of course, my sleeping beauty.”


	96. Chapter 96

As it turned out, sleeping with a gold Grand Prix medal on the nightstand and a lightly snoring Victor Nikiforov next to him was a cure for ailments he didn’t know he had. At least, that’s how Yuuri felt when, come morning, he snuck from the bed and into his clothes.

He ducked out of the room and down to reception in order to arrange for breakfast to be delivered to them. Having decided against the phone in the room out of fear of waking his soon-to-be lover, he had few options available to him.

When a firm hand landed on his ass in front of the elevator, he was more than a little shocked and let out a rather indignant squeak. Turning around, he came face to face with Chris Giacometti – the Swiss skater wasn’t part of Skate America – what was he doing in the hotel?

Before he could voice his question, the taller man winked at him.

“Good morning, lover boy. I take it from the fact that you can walk… that Victor can’t? How nice of you to get him something to eat.” Frantically shaking his head, Yuuri stepped back. “No! NO, it’s not like that! We didn’t – he’s just still asleep!”

“Wore him out, did you? I knew you had it in you!”

“Why are you here?” He asked in a desperate attempt to change the topic. Chris shrugged. “I usually watch the competitions I’m not in. After… well, after the show you guys put down yesterday, I thought I’d come by and offer my congratulations.”

Yuuri glanced at the clock between the two elevators. “At 6.35am?” The other skater snickered. “Okay, so maybe someone else that I know stays here and maybe I was planning on stopping by their room first. Can you blame me?” 

“Well, uhm, no, of course not.” “I have to say Yuuri, your performance yesterday was out of this world. What got into you… given that it wasn’t Victor, clearly.” Squeaking again, Yuuri stared at his shoes. “I just… I wanted to compete with Victor on the same level. The same base score, you know?”

Chris laughed. “Well, it worked. Victor skated better than he’s done in a long time, and you beat him hollow.” Yuuri shrugged off the compliment. “I’m just… I didn’t want my hard work to have been for nothing. You still beat me at the NHK Trophy.”

“I wouldn’t have if you’d had a good day. To tell you the truth I’m a little worried about the finale. I’m used to playing second fiddle to Victor but with not just one but TWO skaters of his calibre… I’m getting old now. How will I keep up?”

Yuuri smiled softly. “It’ll be a good competition. I’ll definitely do my best.” “Likewise, Yuuri. Likewise. Have you seen the final list of qualified competitors?” “No, not yet.” “Ah… well, us three of course, JJ, Otabek and the second Yuri.” “Oh…”

“Is that disappointing?” “Mh, my friend came close to qualifying… I guess he didn’t make it.” Chris tilted his head. “You mean Phichit Chulanont? Talented skater. Otabek only barely beat him in points.”

“I see. The finale is going to be quite something this year, isn’t it? I hope Phichit won’t be too upset.” “I’m sure he’ll be happy for you anyway.” “Yeah… he’s a great friend. This elevator is taking a while, isn’t it?”

Chris snorted. “Yes, Yuuri… it comes a lot faster when you actually press the button.” The other leaned forward in order to do that exact thing. It took less than ten seconds for the doors to open. Chris was still laughing when the doors closed again between them.


	97. Chapter 97

By the time Yuuri got back to their hotel room, he found a very confused Victor sitting on the bed with a room service cart and quite a lot of dishes in front of him. Clearly, the hotel had hurried the order up a fair bit.

Kissing Victor gently, Yuuri moved the plates from the tray to the dining table at the far end while Victor traipsed to the bathroom before joining him. “Where did you go?” The Russian asked on his return.

“Ah, I didn’t want to wake you up, so I went downstairs. I ran into Chris though.” “Chris? Why is he here?” Yuuri shrugged and repeated what the Swiss skater had told him – Victor didn’t seem all that surprised.

The food was surprisingly pleasant for hotel food – by the time Yakov had come to pick them up, they were both well ready for their exhibition. With their focus on the competition programs, neither had paid much mind to a new exhibition and so decided to skate their last free from the previous season.

While that wasn’t a big deal for Victor, Yuuri felt more than a bit nervous – it was the program that had caused his injury. He was well prepared for it, but there was a persistent ache in his ankle – he knew it was just in his mind but sadly that knowledge didn’t much help him.

Victor on the other hand did – he was more than understanding and supportive, even went to speak to the organisers about a possible medical exemption.

Sadly, Yakov insisted and so, as the gold medallist, Yuuri had to go first. Sighing, he took his position on the ice. Even without having practised he remembered the program well enough, not to mention he wasn’t being scored – it took a lot of pressure of.

Well, it would have done, if the music that had played had in fact been his previous free’s track. It wasn’t. It wasn’t anything he’d heard before at all, actually. In a panic, he did something he’d never done before at all – improvise. The music was decently paced and so coming up with a quick set of moves wasn’t too awful – he mostly borrowed from old performances.

He even included some simple jumps – moments after landing a double axel, a flash of silver in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Victor.

Of course, it was always Victor.

Victor… who was skating towards him, hand outstretched.

Oh.

He took the hand of course and allowed the other man to lead him in an impromptu ice dance. In mere moments, the audience, the commentators, it was all gone – there was only him and Victor on the ice.

Yuuri had never pair skated like that before, but he knew enough to trust his partner when the other man lifted him a few times – it felt surprisingly exhilarating. He was far too enchanted to worry about messing anything up, even when Victor put a bit of distance between them and winked.

Oh. He wanted Yuuri to lead. He could do that.

Grinning, Yuuri skated a spread eagle… and launched straight into a triple axel. It was one of his best moves, and not one he’d ever seen Victor do. Of course, the older man matched it flawlessly, timing perfect. Like they’d practised it for years.

Still, Yuuri found himself wanting to challenge the other man. He skated a few steps, put them both in the right position on the ice and then launched into a quad toe loop triple toe loop combination. He gave Victor a few moments before his next quad – after all, the other WAS older than him.

By the time they’d both landed a quad Lutz, Yuuri could see that Victor was growing tired and took pity on the man. He reached out, delighted when Victor didn’t hesitate before taking his hand and letting himself be spun. Yuuri dipped him, held him low above the ice for a long moment before pulling him back up and mimicking the steps of a waltz on the ice.

Ever the perfect skater, Victor read him like a book and matched him perfectly.

A slight squeeze of his hands let him know that the music was almost over. He let Victor take the lead again, pulling them into a tight spin that ended with them pressed closely together, just as the last note of the music faded.

For a moment, the entire world seemed to be silent.


	98. Chapter 98

The next moment, the spell broke and the stadium exploded in applause. Laughing happily, Victor yanked him off the ice, while a still stammering announcer explained the unexpected change in program.

Only then did Yuuri realise what Victor had really gone to ask the officials – he’d asked to change the music. What a brilliant, devious man.

Off the ice, both of them were berated by Yakov of course, but Yuuri at least felt like a schoolboy that had gotten away with something big. When their coach realised his words weren’t having the intended effect, he simply waved them away.

Just as well – ignoring the rest of the exhibitions, ignoring the waiting press and even Chris when he waved from the stands, both stumbled to the changing rooms and changed their shoes. Yuuri’s suggestion to go back to the hotel was rejected flat-out – Victor insisted he had a better idea.

That’s how Yuuri found himself in an American casino, feeling extremely underdressed and out of place not thirty minutes later. A waiter had handed him a glass of champagne as soon as they’d stepped in, and not one of the employees so much as batted an eye at their appearance, tracksuits and all.

Victor handed one of the employees what looked suspiciously like a black Amex and off they went – Victor wanted to play Roulette. 

He lost three rounds in a row before urging Yuuri to make a bet.

Accepting a single green chip, Yuuri hesitated – where to put it? Before he could think better of it, he placed it on 25 – Victor’s birth date. It was as good an option as any. Curious, he watched the ball hop through the wheel, only mildly curious where it would land.

When it didn’t seem to want to settle, he took a swig from his champagne – it was surprisingly sweet and pleasant. By the time he put down the glass, half the table was howling in excitement. Confused, Yuuri looked at Victor who was laughing quite happily… and pointing at the board.

The ball had indeed landed on the number he picked. A little confused about the excitement, he accepted a small bucket filled with green chips when it was handed to him and shook the hand of the croupier who did so. Victor fished a coin out and tossed it to the man – a tip?

Before he had time to think about it, Victor had already yanked him away to another game – this one, he didn’t even recognise the name of. Still, holding his little bucket, Yuuri was content to watch Victor enjoy himself.

The man seemed to win as much as he lost if Yuuri was right – he had a hard time keeping track of all the chips. It took the better part of two hours for the Russian to tire. When Victor asked if there was something he wanted to do before leaving, Yuuri could only think of one thing – he’d seen a giant one-armed bandit machine near the lobby and suggested using it.

Victor readily agreed and an employee accepted one of his green chips in exchange for ten yellow ones. Unsure what to do, Yuuri handed the employee one, the same way Victor had done at multiple points. The remaining ones he split between himself and Victor – five for the Russian, four for himself. They took turns at the huge machine, but to no avail.

The machine beeped, rattled, played a mildly annoying sound and displayed a ‘better luck next time’ message every time. Pouting, Victor looked at Yuuri. “I’m sorry we didn’t win anything. Do you want to try again?” Shaking his head, Yuuri handed his bucket off to Victor and settled on following the other man towards the exit. Victor handed the bucket to another employee, signed for something and accepted a bottle of red wine before linking his arm with Yuuri’s and pulling him along.

Their trip back to the hotel was uneventful – they walked along the main boulevard instead of getting a cab. It was busy, but not as chaotic as Yuuri might have expected. Back in their hotel room, Victor wasted no time in calling down to reception and ordering something – Yuuri didn’t quite catch what it was since he was in the bathroom.

By the time he came out, Victor was shirtless and lounging on the bed.

“You make quite the sight.” He quietly observed before joining the man there.


	99. Chapter 99

“Mh, likewise. I’ve ordered us some glasses for the wine.” “Thank you. Was the wine the prize we got for the chips?” 

To his surprise, Victor froze completely and gave him a wide-eyed look. 

“Uh… Yuuri? Is that… is that what you think?” “Huh?” Victor cleared his throat. “What do you think each of those chips was worth?” Shrugging in confusion, Yuuri took a guess. “Maybe… ten dollars? A bit more?”

To his shock, Victor collapsed backwards onto the bed, shaking with laughter. Yuuri was just getting concerned when someone knocked on the door. Since the Russian was still laughing, Yuuri took it upon him to answer and accept the glasses… as well as the bowl of strawberries that came with them.

By the time he got back to the bed, Victor was wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh, Yuuri… each of those chips was worth a thousand dollars. You bet a thousand on 25 and the pay-out was… let me see, I think it was 35 times that.” “Huh? HUH?” The noise that escaped him was probably not human.

“That was THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS?” “That’s right!” Victor cheerfully got up and poured them each a glass of wine. Sniffing the glass, Victor winked at him. “This is good wine, but it isn’t thirty-five thousand good.”

“What… uh… what did you do with it?” He asked, legs suddenly a bit weak. “Hm? Oh, I donated ten percent of it to a charity and had the rest paid into my account. Your coaching fee, yes?” Nodding dumbly, Yuuri emptied his glass and held it out for a refill.

“My, I had no idea you didn’t know what the chips were worth! They did have it printed on them you know.” “I… didn’t see?” “Yes, clearly. How is the wine?”

“Great.” He half-mumbled, still shell-shocked. “Really, Yuuri, you’re quite something though! Not everyone can say they walked out of Las Vegas that much richer!” He shrugged. “Well, it’s not my money. It’s yours. And even if it wasn’t… you’ve done so much for me, I’d want to pay you back anyway.”

“You’re no fun!” “I’m… sorry?” Victor sighed, swirling his wine a little.

“Well, here we are, alone in a hotel with expensive wine and you just paid me over thirty thousand dollars… can you really not think of anything else to do than worry about money?” With a sudden gulp, Yuuri realised that Victor hadn’t just laid down on the bed but had tried to deliberately seduce Yuuri.

Annnd he hadn’t noticed. Oops.

Slipping across the bed to the other man, Yuuri did his best to look amused. “Were you trying to seduce me?” “Mh, the thought crossed my mind.” Drinking another sip of wine, Yuuri set the glass safely on the nightstand.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t quite tell. You’re always attractive after all.” For a moment, Victor appeared startled, then he snorted into his wineglass. “Was that… was that supposed to be flirting?” Blushing, he nodded.

“Well, you’re not very good at it, are you?” The Russian leaned over and set his glass down, already reaching for the bottle to refill it.

Yuuri had other ideas.

He grabbed Victor’s wrist and pinned him to the bed, pressing his body against the other’s. He could feel him pull on his hold for just a moment before he relaxed with a soft sigh.

“I may not be good at flirting, but I do have other talents.” Yuuri purred. “Mh. I’m well-aware… are you talking about something specific?” The Russian stretched, deliberately pressing himself backwards against Yuuri.

“Who knows?” Yuuri mumbled before pressing his face against the side of Victor’s neck and pressing kisses along the soft skin there and down his back until the man shuddered. Yuuri wanted to see more – wanted to see everything.


	100. Chapter 100

Gently releasing the other man’s hands, Yuuri ran his fingers down his muscled back until he reached the other’s lower back, where he pressed his hands down and firmly massaged the rather tense muscles there.

Victor gave a low groan and collapsed against the bed while Yuuri worked his muscles there. When he was satisfied with how pliant the other man was, Yuuri ran his hands lower, softly trailing them over the hem of Victor’s track pants.

When no protest came, he hooked his fingers under them and pulled – other than shimmying out of them, no reaction came. Yuuri sat between the Russian’s legs and started massaging his left calf. Yuuri knew well how tense skaters could get, and Victor was no exception.

He slowly worked his way up to his thigh until he was nearly touching the hem of those ridiculously tiny pants that Victor favoured. Just as he reached them, he stopped and started again on his other calf. A soft whine was the only reaction.

The massage was equal parts arousal and genuine desire to help the other – Victor was older than he was, and he was well aware that the man felt the effects of his long career more keenly than Yuuri did.

When once again he reached the hem of Victor’s pants, he realised he had a decision to make. The other man’s breathing was quite laboured, though he seemed to be trying to hide it. Cautiously, he slipped a finger under the fabric and lightly tugged.

Victor wasted no time in raising his hips to allow Yuuri to pull them off. They sailed across the room moments later, discarded casually.

Now, Yuuri had seen the other naked plenty of times, and he’d ogled him more than once as well. This was still different. Yuuri hesitated what to do, how to touch. Victor seemed to sense it, as he flopped over and laid on his back, Yuuri nestled between his legs.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised to see that Victor was hard, nor that his face was a little flushed, but he was. This was a little more than he’d seen from the other, and it was… impressive. Unconsciously, he reached out and trailed his hand over Victor’s thigh.

The other man shuddered, squirming on the bed a little. Suddenly, Yuuri had a very good idea of what he wanted, what he was going to do. Making eye contact with Victor, he leaned down, pressing a firm kiss on the man’s hipbone.

Victor groaned, the sound seemingly escaping against his will – at least if the pink flush on his cheeks following it was anything to go by.

“Is that all you’re going to do?” The older man asked, his accent considerably rougher than normal.

“You tell me.” Yuuri replied, licking the skin he’d just kissed. “Mhh… you’re not even undressed. Would you like some help with that?” Yuuri sat back, motioning for Victor to do as he pleased. In moments, the other man had unzipped and practically yanked off his hoodie, his shirt following a second later. Yuuri found himself pushed backwards quite roughly, his pants yanked off him right along with his boxers, no finesse whatsoever.

If he hadn’t already been rock-hard, that would have done the trick. Victor hungrily eyed him, a finger pressed to his lips, clearly considering something. Whatever it was, the Russian seemed to come to some sort of conclusion as he leaned down and kissed Yuuri – slow, gentle and so intense it made him shudder.

He barely registered the moment the Russian wrapped his hand around his by now aching erection. He very much noticed when the other man gave a gentle pump without breaking the kiss. That was definitely more than they’d done before, not that Yuuri was complaining.

In fact, rather the opposite.

Eventually, it was Victor who broke their kiss, leaning lower and pressing a series of pecks down Yuuri’s chest and stomach. He seemed to hesitate a little, for some reason. Wanting to encourage his partner, Yuuri ran his hands through Victor’s hair, his fingers scratching over Victor’s scalp.

The expression in the other’s eyes was one of pure devotion, a look that took his breath away as effectively as Victor’s hand had. Whatever the Russian had been wondering about though, he seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion, because he lowered his eyes, studying Yuuri’s body for a moment.

“May I?” He asked, his voice rough. It took him half a second to understand what the man was asking – he had to suppress a snicker, knowing it wouldn’t go over well. As if he’d ever refuse that.

“If you’d like.” He answered, glad he wasn’t stuttering. Maybe that glass of wine had been exactly what he needed. Victor didn’t hesitate again before nuzzling his nose against Yuuri’s hard length. He pressed a few kisses along the shaft before lifting it up and matter-of-factly sucking it into his mouth.

A rather loud groan echoed through the room and for a moment Yuuri was mortified – then he realised the sound hadn’t been his.

Oh.

Wow.


	101. Chapter 101

Victor started moving his head, slowly at first, but steadily faster, all the while his hands were clamped on Yuuri’s hips. Blue eyes looked through strands of silver hair up at him and it was probably the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen in his life – reality beat his imagination a thousand times over.

Yuuri found himself trailing his fingers down Victor’s cheek on his next suck, wanting to confirm what he saw was real. Victor seemed to take his touch as some sort of challenge because he gave one of his trademark winks before closing his eyes and redoubling his efforts – not that Yuuri wasn’t already close to embarrassing himself already.

Biting his lip to stop himself from making any stupid noises, he watched as Victor’s head moved up and down. On a whim, he reached for one of Victor’s hands and linked their fingers together. As he felt himself getting closer, he squeezed the other’s hand to warn him – to his surprise and definite disappointment, the Russian let up and pulled back.

He cleared his throat, his voice audibly rough. “How do you want to finish?” “I… huh?” An elegant finger trailed down his saliva-covered length, making him shudder. “I said, how would you like to finish this? Do you want to come in my mouth… on my face maybe?”

The question alone nearly made him whimper, though the answer was an easy one. “What do YOU want?” He asked, pleased when Victor shivered in response. The other man pressed another kiss to his length. “Hm, I’d enjoy either. This is for you though… Mr Gold Medallist.”

Yuuri couldn’t help chuckling softly. So like Victor.

“Then… in your mouth? We can try other stuff some other time.” The Russian nodded and wasted no time in sucking Yuuri back into his mouth. If he’d seemed eager before, he now seemed determined to have Yuuri finish as quickly as possible… and he had no defence against it. He linked their hands again, squeezing when he felt himself getting closer.

He felt his eyes slip shut off their own volition the more the sensations intensified, only for Victor’s free hand to lightly flick him in the side. Eyes blinking open, he looked down – for what it was worth, Victor was pouting. How he managed to convey the expression with Yuuri’s cock buried in his mouth was anyone’s guess, but Yuuri got the message – he already knew Victor liked being watched after all.

Brown eyes stayed trained on blue ones as he felt himself getting close to that edge again, well-aware that there would be no backing down. He managed to choke out a quick “Vitya!” to warn the other man, then he was coming, helpless to the pleasure that swept through him.

Victor was relentless, sucking him until he was completely spent before releasing him. The Russian’s lips were a little puffy, his breath coming in fast pants. Yuuri groaned before yanking the man up by the neck and firmly kissing him. The taste didn’t bother him all that much, not that he was keen on it – he simply wanted to kiss Victor. The man seemed more than happy to return the kiss.

After a few moments, Yuuri pulled back and pushed Victor back against the pillows. “Your turn.” He declared and started kissing his way down Victor’s chest. He was more thorough, gently nibbling along the soft skin covering hard muscles as he went along. Victor’s hands were buried in his hair, not directing his motions so much as holding on.

He’d only reached Victor’s stomach when the man lightly tugged him up by the air. Stopping, Yuuri looked at Victor. “Is something wrong?”

The Russian cleared his throat.

“Ah, it’s just… you don’t have to? If there’s something else you’d rather do?” “I want to.” Yuuri replied – hell, he’d wanted to since he was a teenager. “Okay… I’d like that, it’s just…” The Russian cleared his throat again, while Yuuri waited for him to continue.

“I won’t… last.” He eventually said with a grimace, the admission clearly embarrassing him. Yuuri just waved him off. “It’s fine. I didn’t last long either. We’ve waited a long time for this.” With a smile, Victor brushed his fingers through Yuuri’s fringe and nodded.

“Then… please? This is torture.” Grinning, Yuuri leaned down and continued where he’d left off – pressing kisses and gentle bites down the other man’s stomach. Victor’s next groan was one of frustration as much as pleasure and Yuuri wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eventually, he reached his goal – Victor was throbbing by now. Taking pity on him, Yuuri wrapped his hand around the other and gave a firm stroke, then another. Making eye contact the same way Victor had, he wrapped his lips around Victor and swallowed the man down as far as he could.

The full-body shudder that ran through his lover when he did so made Yuuri feel powerful. He moved his head up and down a few times before gently teasing the other with his tongue as well. Victor’s breath was coming in hard gasps, his eyes riveted on Yuuri’s.

He could feel the other man tremble, could feel every shudder and twitch and savoured them all. It didn’t take long at all before Victor’s grip on his hair tightened and he mumbled something… in Russian. Still, Yuuri got the message and sped up a little bit more.

One, two, three more sucks and Victor was coming, Yuuri frantically swallowing to keep up. His partner was anything but quiet, moaning as shudders wracked his entire body. When it became a little hard to breathe, he pulled off, coughing lightly. 

He stretched out next to his now-lover and waited for Victor to recover, all the while discreetly wiping his mouth. The taste was… well, nothing he wasn’t familiar with, but he’d never been all that keen.

A few moments later, strong arms wrapped around him and he was yanked against a firm chest by a still trembling Victor. It took a bit of shuffling for them to get under the covers, wrapped in each other’s arms, but it was well worth it.

Neither of them spoke a word, content to just be close and touching. Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure but he thought he could see tears in Victor’s eyes at one point – he was tempted to ask but didn’t want to ruin the magic of the moment. There would be time tomorrow.


	102. Chapter 102

There was no time at all the next day because criminally early, Yakov was banging on their door, yelling that they were going to miss their flight. They’d both forgotten that they had an early flight and thus scrambled to get packed under the angry supervision of their coach.

They made it by the skin of their teeth, only just not having to run towards the plane. Victor thought it was quite fun, Yakov was not amused – Yuuri was just glad they made their flight. It was a relaxed trip, all in all, though they were all glad for it being over by the time they stepped foot on Russian soil.

Yuuri’s favourite moment was when the door to their apartment clicked shut behind them and Makka barrelled into them at full speed, knocking them both down. She’d been with a sitter, but as usual, Mila had picked her up and dropped her off in time for them to get back.

It really felt like coming home, not that they did anything other than pass out in bed after making sure Makka had eaten.

The next morning, both of them decided to sleep in. They’d had a long week – between their emotions and skating, they were both tired to the bone. Yuuri got up in the afternoon in order to call his family and Phichit to talk to them properly – he hadn’t had the opportunity before. They were all over the moon for him, beyond happy with his success.

Phichit didn’t even seem that upset that he hadn’t made it to the finals – he just shrugged and said there was always next year and that he’d be cheering for Yuuri. It was really quite touching.

Sometime in the evening, Victor called up a nearby restaurant and ordered takeout for them to have – according to him, Yuuri had earned eating ‘whatever he wanted’ for his gold. Unable to suppress a snicker at the man’s words, it had visibly taken Victor a moment to realise what he’d just said.

The pizza he decided on was definitely a good choice, though not quite as fun as the knowledge that they could go straight to bed after… and that there was no longer any reason to hold back from anything they wanted to do.

Or so they thought – the next day, when they were due to resume training, Victor had to call in sick. Yuuri went to training, plagued with guilt – he’d been a tiny bit overzealous, not considering his partner's limits. His stamina vastly outlasted Victor’s, and they’d both wanted to see just how much… quite a bit, as it turned out. Victor could barely walk on his own.

Claiming a sudden head-cold was considerably easier than possibly admitting the truth to Yakov of all people. Yuuri shuddered in horror at the thought – not that Mila and the other Yuri didn’t still give him meaningful looks. He convinced himself it was only a coincidence, of course.

Thankfully, Victor’s mysterious head-cold only lasted a day – they swore to themselves to go easier next time though.

With only a few weeks to the final, there weren’t exactly many opportunities anyway. They were both in top shape and more than ready for their trip to Barcelona by the time it was, well, time.


	103. Chapter 103

Stepping into the same hotel he’d stayed in the year before was surreal. Last year too, he and Victor had been in the same competition, at the same hotel, at the same banquet. This year, everything was the same… and yet different.

Better.

When Victor decided to go out with Chris and some other skaters the first night, Yuuri declined to join them – he wasn’t in the mood to party, a little too worried about what would happen. They’d arrived with two days to spare before the competition. Plenty of time to train – and to worry.

To be fair, it was one of his strongest moves, Yuuri cynically admitted to himself. He split that evening between browsing social media, watching the photos Victor and the others posted and napping. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, though he was glad when Victor came back a little later.

They didn’t do anything sexual, but Yuuri drew a lot of comfort from being able to hold his lover in his arms. Victor, ever understanding, didn’t mind at all, of course.

Come morning, they each got ready and headed to training. The order of skaters had been decided – naturally, Yuuri had had the worst luck and had gotten the first spot. Victor, on the other hand, was second to last – only Otabek Altin skated after him.

As it happened, they were on the same training schedule as Yuri Plisetsky, making the pre-competition training rather a lot like their regular training was anyway. For what it was worth, Yuuri found that quite comforting – despite Yuri’s assertions that he was going to crush them both. The younger skater had to be feeling the pressure as much as Yuuri was – he just handled it differently.

Yuuri for one was nowhere near as terrified as he could be. He wanted to compete, was looking forward to it – for perhaps the first time in his career, he truly did not fear the upcoming event. Despite Victor telling him so, it was the first time that he truly BELIEVED the other would still love and want him all the same no matter what.

It was… liberating.

Not that he wasn’t still going to do his best. He’d defeated Victor Nikiforov in a fair competition before, and he wanted to do it again if possible.

The morning of the short skate was the first time he felt truly nervous – still, by the time he stepped onto the ice, all he could think about was his choreography. He was definitely worried that he’d seize up, that he’d make a mistake… but he didn’t.

With the exception of a touch-down on a Salchow – stupid, he was better than that – he did pretty well. His scores reflected that – lower than in his previous competition, he still scored a respectable 105.22. Like before, Victor outscored him with 109.49 points – and somewhat surprisingly, so did his namesake. Yuri Plisetsky caused quite a bit of surprise when he scored 106.51 points, putting him in second place after the short.

Perhaps the biggest upset though was JJ. Yuuri knew the somewhat obnoxious skater was talented, yet he did, objectively speaking, quite badly. He scored a season-low of just above 80 points. It was by no means awful, but it was over a dozen points below what people expected. It was hard for Yuuri to watch – he’d been in the other man’s shoes.

He thought about offering his support, but decided against it – the Canadian’s fiancée and his parents seemed to have a good enough handle on it. Still, seeing another skater so distraught brought his mood down a little – with the free hours away, he struggled a little to fall asleep.

Still, he woke up relatively rested. Being in third place, he had a little more time to prep for the skate – he spent a significant amount of it with Victor. The older skater seemed to sense that he wasn’t feeling quite right and was being even more clingy and supportive than usual.

By the time it was time for his competition, Yuuri felt mostly like himself again. Stepping on the ice again, he was almost disappointed – in just a few minutes, the Grand Prix would be over for him, no matter how he did. Sure, there were nationals, four continents and if he did well, the world championships but… it had always been about the Grand Prix for him.

Sighing, he took his position, vowing he’d do his best.


	104. Chapter 104

Yuuri didn’t manage to break his record again, but he came close – he was quite satisfied with his 211.01 score for the free. Yakov and Victor were pleased too – neither actually had much to critique about his performance, despite his somewhat shaky quads.

He felt… good about himself, about his skating. And, with the pressure gone, he could focus on something he’d enjoyed doing since his childhood – watching Victor Nikiforov amaze on the ice.

Victor scored fewer points on his free than Yuuri had – 208.44 to be precise. It was as close a call as it could be – with less than 2 points between them, Victor Nikiforov nabbed the GPF champion title for himself, putting Yuuri in second place.

Third place went to the other Yuuri – with 312.11 overall points, he narrowly beat Chris who was, thankfully rather gallant about not making it onto the podium. Otabek Altin and JJ each were only a few points behind the others as well – all in all, the entire final had been a spectacular success.

During the medalling ceremony, Yuuri found himself looking up at Victor, at the gold around his neck. Once they each had their medals and were asked to strike a pose for the media, said man winked at him – and without a care in the world, jumped off the highest podium step and into Yuuri’s arms.

He caught him of course, both laughing even as they nearly fell while the other Yuri made retching noises at them.

Yuuri couldn’t have cared less – nothing existed outside of their hug, as far as he was concerned. Setting Victor down, they skated their victory lap hand in hand.

“So… what’s next?” He asked the Russian who gave him a confused look in return. “What do you mean what’s next?” “Well, where do we go from here?” He half expected the other man to talk about nationals or even worlds… but instead, Victor pressed a kiss to his cheek, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Now… we start planning the wedding, of course!”

Yuuri only squeezed his hand in return – it sounded like a pretty good plan to him.


End file.
